In Search of Lost Fire
by PrincessTverski
Summary: After being crowned King, Caspian finds himself in need of counsel from the Pevensies, Enter Josephine, the granddaughter of Susan. Amid quests, danger, and chick flick marathons will Caspian find love? AU, rated M for violence / swearing. CaspianXOC.
1. We meet Jo, Nana, and Caspian

**So, finally the first chapter of my next adventure! For those of you who don't know, I just finished a smashing Draco Malfoy / OC. Anyway, I decided to write about Caspian X because, he's quite dishy and probably has less issues that Draco--though I guess we'll see about that. I thought about writing this story in first person, but I decided against it, due to the fact that people seemed to like the third person thing I had goin' on. So, what I'm trying to say is, if in this chapter, you happen to come across of 'me' instead of a 'she', I did try, sorry if that one escaped my notice. I sort of riped the title from Proust _In Search of Lost Time_, but it will makes sense as the story progresses. Anywoo, I don't own anything that's credited to C.S. Lewis. I only really own Josephine. So, dearies, read on and review.**

Chapter 1

Josephine Whitehall threw her pathetic 1987 Ford Topaz in drive and cranked the Three Days Grace—she had just finished the final dress rehearsal for her school's production of _Hamlet _and that made her angsty and slight romantic. Josephine had been cast to play Ophelia, which surprised her because she was not really that big of a theatre bug, she just really love the Western Canon and therefore_ Hamlet_ was a personal favorite— Josephine had spent the whole summer understanding Ophelia's madness and despair.

The drive home from the high school wasn't really that far—she just didn't particularly feel like trudging through cornfields at nine o'clock at night in October. Josephine glance at her speedometer and realized that she was speeding; probably due to the fact that her Nana had just rented the new Liam Neeson movie, _Taken_; and she wanted to fantasize about having a CIA badass for a father.

Not that she knew who her real father—or mother—was. Josephine had been adopted and named by Phyllis Whitehall a few months after birth. Phyllis—who had always wanted children—had been quite old when she adopted Jo; so instead of having the little girl call her 'moma' she told the child to call her 'Nana'. Phyllis Whitehall was a physics professor at the local university; she also enjoyed shopping and planning parties—if Josephine had had any friends Phyllis would have had the best times organizing birthday parties and the like. Phyllis was also a beautiful storyteller; when Josephine had been small and unable to sleep her Nana would tell her stories about the magical land of Narnia, of Aslan the lion, of the Pevensie family and of King Caspian X.

Josephine absolutely adored hearing, thinking, writing, and dreaming about Narnia. When she had been five years old, she had this strange quirk where she would close her strange eyes and run full throttle into closets and wardrobes. In retrospect, she could see how silly she had been, but at the time all she could think was that instead of a wall she would land in Narnia and lovely adventures. It never worked, of course, and Nana finally put a stop to it when she broke her left arm after a particularly intense episode where the closet had been chalk full to the ceiling with unwanted Christmas presents; needless to say, almost everything fell on her, including a fifty pound amp. Even then, when she was twelve years old, she had a strange phase where she would only sleep in her closet.

Josephine was awakened out of her wandering thoughts when she saw the turn off for her driveway. She proceeded up the gravel road until the old farm house that Nana had bought when they had moved state-side, came in to view. Both of Jo and her Nana were legally citizens of the United Kingdom, but Nana had been offered a really good position at the university in Wisconsin when Jo was about three, so they had moved and she didn't really remember England at all; much to her sadness. The house in question was rather small with the majority of the rooms on the ground floor and just two rooms plus a bathroom on the upper floor—which Nana had designated were all for Josephine.

After parking her car off to the side of the single car garage—which housed her Nana's Chevy Malibu—Josephine walked into the house via the side door in the kitchen. The kitchen was a bit outdated with orange flower wall paper which added an excellent psychedelic touch. There were dark wood cabinets with glass fronts; behind the glass were Nana's fine china that she only ever used for holidays and the rare company. The appliances were all gleaming new.

"Nana, I'm home!" she call as she made her way through the kitchen to the hallway. "You are not going to believe what happened at practice! That fink weasel, Tony—you know, the kid that sort of looks like Johnny Depp and is playing Hamlet—tried to stick his tongue down my throat during the scene where Hamlet goes bat shit crazy and slams Ophelia against a wall. I mean for Christ sake, Hamlet's breaking off their affair! And there he went, gross slobbery tongue…oh!" Josephine stopped dead in her tracks as she rounded into the living room.

Nana was sitting on her usual blue wing backed armchair next to the fireplace—the Wisconsin winters made the fireplace rather necessary in the old house. She had her snow-white hair pulled into a low lying bun; her blue eyes were animated. Of course she's not the reason Josephine stopped talking; no, standing across from Nana next the blue and white paisley sofa—he had stood when I entered the room—was the most gorgeous, most handsome man Josephine have ever laid her eyes on, she thought, and that included the time she had seen Heath Ledger on her school trip to Los Angeles in the eighth grade.

He was tall with the perfect ratio of broad shoulders and narrow hips. His skin was the color of caramel and his shoulder length, thick hair was the color of chocolate. Jo's eyes wandered over his strong face; he was ideal with his lovely slanting cheekbones, strong square jaw, and full lips. And when she reached his eyes, she had to remember to breath—they were deep soul-full pools of black ink that would draw a person in deeper and deeper.

"Josephine, close your mouth; it's deeply unattractive." Nana chided. She shook her head, waking herself out of her dazzled stupor. Jo took another glance at the guy and noticed he was dressed rather oddly—instead of jeans and a t-shirt like normal a normal teenaged guy, he was wearing strange brown cloth pants, tucked into big black boots that went practically up to his knees and also a white billowy shirt with some sort of a blue woven leather armor vest. Jo raised an eyebrow and started to back away into the hallway.

"I'm assuming I've just stumbled into the twilight zone or something…so I'm going to go." she pointed awkwardly behind herself, back into the hall as she retreated.

Nana sighed. "Josephine, you ridiculous girl, sit down; I have something I need to tell you." Josephine sighed to let them know how put upon she was and slumped over to the overstuffed green chair and flopped down; it was never good when Nana had to tell her something—last time it happened it was because their puppy got run over by the neighbor; Jo still quite upset about that, actually. Nana gave her that disapproving British look she has and Josephine immediately straighten up and sat 'like the lady that she was'. She started taking her long blond hair out of the bun she usually wore for rehearsal and stuck the pins on the octagonal blue end table next to the chair; all the while glancing at Mr. Hunk through the corner of her violet eyes.

"Jo…" Nana seemed to be at a loss of words for once; Josephine decided to help the older woman out. She put on her prettiest smile and turned to the weirdo in armor.

"Hi, I'm Josephine Whitehall; I assume you know Phyllis?"

"Phyllis?" His eyebrows contorted in confusion as he spoke with a rather delicious accent somewhat akin to the way the school's Spanish exchange student, Marcello, sounded. Jo motioned to Nana.

"You are referring to Susan?" He asked.

"Susan? Nana?" Now it was her turn to look confused-- Nana's name was definitely Phyllis; Josephine could say so with certainty because she had seen the woman's driver's license.

"Caspian!" Nana exclaimed, exasperated that he'd apparently let the cat out of the bag.

"Caspian?" Jo questioned.

"Josephine…" Nana tried to start again.

"Caspian!?" Slightly hysterical this time—Jo could only think of one person named Caspian, and he was definitely a figment of imagination.

"Susan…"

She cut him off, because he was obliviously wrong. "Phyllis."

"JOSEPHINE!" Nana thundered.

"Nana?" Nana sighed heavily and looked as if she was trying not to have an aneurysm. She smoothed out the nonexistent wrinkle in her knee length black skirt and cleared her throat.

"Josephine, you remember when you were young I used to tell you stories about Narnia, Aslan, and the Pevensie siblings?"

Josephine raised her right eyebrow and glanced at their guest; slowly putting two and two together. "You've got to be kidding me. I spent a year throwing myself into wardrobes and never found anything and now you're telling me…?" Out of the corner of her eye she saw Caspian—if that's who he really was—try to stifle a laugh at her childhood antics; well, she was glad someone found them amusing.

Nana had a completely serious expression on her wrinkled, still rather pretty, face. "It was all true—those stories, it's what happened to me and my two brothers and sister." She paused for a moment, as if in deep reflection. If what she said was true, then her life had been extremely more desolate that Josephine could have ever imagined. She shook her head and her eyes lost the far off quality that they'd had for a moment. She looked at her guest. "May I please introduce you to his Majesty, King Caspian X of Narnia and Telmar."

It took a moment to sink in, then Jo snorted with amusement. "Yes, and I'm Anastasia, the last Grand Duchess of Imperial Russia. Phyllis, if you were worried about me being a lesbian—which, I am decidedly **not**—, you should have just asked, not dressed some stud-muffin up as Sir. Lancelot and ambush me." she tossed her waist length hair in a rather snotty manner.

"I am not worried about you being a lesbian, just about not having friends." Nana snapped just as Caspian interjected: "Excuse me, but what did you just call me?"

"I called you a stud-muffin and I don't want friends, Nana; having friends means conformity to social norms and expectations." Really though, it hurt Josephine a little inside to hear and admit that she didn't have friends.

"Queen Susan, what exactly is a 'stud-muffin'?" he seemed genuinely concerned; also his voice with its accent was really lovely to listen too.

"Queen Susan? Oh, you've got to be kidding me! I'm going to bed. G'night Nana, good night imaginary childhood hero." She stood up and stretched her five foot five inches frame before spinning around a bustling out of the room as fast as she could; obviously Jo had been clocked in the skull during rehearsal and was blacked out in the dressing room at school having a really weird cranial hemorrhage educed dream. Maybe if she went to sleep, she would wake up…if that makes any sense.

Josephine mounted the rickety green stairs to the second floor that housed her bedroom, bathroom and a sort of open loft area where she kept my book overflow. Nana slept downstairs in the bedroom behind the living room and across from the kitchen. There was a dining room across from the living room, too; and wedged between that and the kitchen was a small guest room—which may or may not have been a butler pantry at one point. There was also a full bath stuck behind the stairs. So really, after Josephine went off to college, if Nana wanted to install stairs outside and turn the loft into a kitchenette / living room combo, she could turn the upstairs into an apartment; though she'd never do that because, firstly, she loved her 'granddaughter' too much, and secondly, she wouldn't like some new non-Josephine person living in her house.

Jo went into her bathroom to get ready for bed. The room was pretty small with a plain white sink, toilette and show crammed in; there was almost not room to stand. When she had been fourteen, Nana let her repaint the dull white walls to a bright sunny yellow with purple and blue pansy; so the room seemed bigger that it is. After braiding her long pale hair and washing her face Jo took a good long look in the mirror. In her opinion, she hadn't been a very attractive child, but now she though—and Nana confirmed—that she was rather pretty. Her once chubby face has lost all of their baby fat to reveal delicate cheekbones and small red lips. Her nose, once too small, fit her oval face better now, too. Okay, so she looked like every other pretty face, but, her hair was naturally blond and she had exotic, large, ever so slightly slanted Tyrian purple eyes framed by thick black lashes. JO stuck my tongue out at Mirror Josephine, mad that she had to look so average—besides her eyes—and shuffled off across the hall to bed.

Ah, her bedroom. It was—in Josephine's opinion—the best room in the house; Nana let her go crazy decorating it, so the room simply screamed 'Josephine Whitehall' in a very girly voice. The walls were light blue with gold painted crown molding that matches the ceiling. There was a wall of dark bookshelves opposite the door with a matching wooden desk placed before the middle two shelves. The wall to the left of the door is solid floor to ceiling windows—they didn't have neighbors in the back, so Jo usually didn't worry about weird creepers looking in her window, though she did have red velvet blinds on them just to be on the safe side. Immediately to the left of the door was a chest of draws with pretty brass flower handles. On the opposite side of the door; wedged against the wall was her full sized sleigh bed with a roman style couch at the foot and a light blue and purple checked bed spread. On the walls that were not glass, were covered with movie and music posters—her favorite being a tie between the Basshunter poster and the moody Edward Cullen poster. Because, while Basshunter's music is great, honestly, Edward Cullen was sex on a stick.

Josephine quickly disrobed and threw the clothing in her white wicker hamper. She hopped into bed in her black undergarments and thought about the next day.

Ah, the first Friday of the month—the high school that she attended always gave that day off for some inexplicable reason. Honestly, like teenagers need more opportunity to get smashed on a weekend. So tomorrow Jo had no school, was not scheduled for work and there was no play practice—because, obviously, it was a good idea to give the cast the day before opening night off; just so they could get suitably freaked out and forget their lines and cues. She rolled over onto my stomach and hugged my stuffed panda while shoving my head under the pillow. 'Tomorrow might actually be good', she though absently, then she remembered Nana's weird guest who was probably in the spare bedroom right now listening to the washing machine—Jo had made Nana put the washer and dryer upstairs because the basement was too damn creepy; there were cobwebs and strange side rooms with no light bulbs. And it smelled like rotting corpses. Okay, really, Jo didn't actually know what a rotting corpses smells like, and secondly she was pretty sure that their basement didn't smell as such, but it was still a weird smell. So, anyway, she had told Nana that if she wanted Jo to do her own laundry, that the machines would have to go upstairs.

Josephine sighed again and relaxed her back muscles, which were sore from pretending to be dead at play practice. Well, whatever tomorrow brought, she was resolved to camp out in front of the television and watch girly movies—Nana could do what she pleased with Caspian.

[~*~]

Caspian was indeed lying on the small twin sized bed next to a strange humming machine that Queen Susan had said was for washing clothes. He was currently trying to piece together why he was where he was. He could remember how recent events had transpired to lead up to his current situation, but he couldn't understand, exactly, why those events had happened.

The most frightening part was that Queen Susan and her siblings had left Narnia not six months before this current point and now Susan was a matron of at least seventy-five years old. He had come to seek advice from High King Peter, but Peter was dead, as well as Edmund and Lucy—only Susan remained—Susan and her granddaughter.

The girl, Josephine, was really very intriguing—physically and otherwise. Firstly, she had yellow hair and purple eyes; Caspian had only ever seen one other person with blond hair—King Peter—and he certainly had never seen any human, or any creature besides, with purple eyes. Besides that, he had never met a creature who spoke so freely around him; it was almost obscene, but Caspian found it slightly refreshing. No one ever spoke to the king in such a way, but then again she didn't believe that he was king—well, not exactly that she didn't believe he was king, it was that she didn't believe he was who he said he was. But he supposed that being informed that your childhood bedtime stories were not fictional, as you always believed, would be rather hard to comprehend. Maybe, in the morning, he could make better head way.

Caspian sighed and shifted slightly on the narrow, but quite comfortable, bed. Tomorrow, perhaps, would be better; he could explain the situation better and maybe Susan, or Josephine, could offer some advice. He stared up at the white ceiling and wondered what sort of world he had inadvertently thrown himself into.


	2. Jo and Caspian get to know eachother

**Yay! Chapter 2! Ugh, I realize this took a while, but I'm in the process of cleaning my room--which may take up to three weeks. So I will write a bit every day, but I cannot promise that I will write a lot every day. I will try to update as much as possible though. This chapter is sort of 'getting to know each other' fluff. I'm slowly discovering and getting to know my characters, so hopefully I'll be able to smooth them out and define them even better. I don't own anything besides Josephine...review? Thank you Shayna-na-na and Ana-Love for reviewing!**

Chapter 2

A shaft of sunlight fell across Josephine's languid sleeping form, around eight a.m., effectively waking her from her dreamless slumber. Jo stared up at her gold ceiling for a moment, wondering why she wasn't at school now that the sun was up; then she remembered it was first Friday. She thought about rolling over and going back to sleep, but she could smell Nana's cooking wafting from downstairs, and that was enough to get Dracula up in the morning.

She got out of her extremely comfortable bed reluctantly and went to the bathroom for a shower and to get ready for the day. After she deemed herself suitable for the outside world, Josephine pulled on a pair of blue jeans and a light blue baby doll type top with pretty silver embroidery that gave the idea of India. As well as a spritz of rose perfume.

As she walked into the kitchen, Josephine was thrown off for a moment when, besides her Nana, she found Caspian seated at the white wooden table, with a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon before him. Josephine blinked rapidly—she wasn't sure why she did this, but usually when she was trying to comprehend something, she blinked rapidly, perhaps it would help get more oxygen to her brain—and then said "Oh, last night wasn't a dream."

Her Nana frowned. "No. There's eggs and bacon in the skillet on the stove; fix yourself a plate." Josephine nodded and busied herself with buttering her toast all the while listening in to Nana and Caspian's conversation.

"Did you sleep well, Caspian?" Nana asked in assurance that she was being a good hostess.

"Yes, thank you, the bed was quite comfortable." Josephine put her buttered toast on the green ceramic plate and proceeded to pile fluffy scrambled eggs on top.

"I'm sorry that I have to go to work today, Caspian, but I will ask my colleagues if they know of anything that can help you." Jo placed some bacon on top of her egg and toast combo. "Josephine will be here to keep you company."

Josephine rolled her purple eyes at the wall. "But, Nana, today was 'Jo is happy again' day."

Nana clucked. "You can be happy with another person around."

"I do not mean to intrude; I can stay in the guest room all day, if it would be better." Caspian offered.

Jo, realizing that making him sequester himself in that tiny room would make her a horrible person, rolled her eyes. "Never mind, I was just being overly dramatic. It'll be nice having someone to hang out with in this creepy old house." She smiled like invitingly at the rather distressed man, trying to put him at ease.

Nana stood up and made her way to the side door. "I'll be home by seven, hopefully."

[~*~]

Caspian stared down at his plate of what Susan has assured him was some sort of pork. He wasn't sure if he should eat it until he observed Josephine bite off a small portion of her own 'bacon' and chew it thoughtfully while still holding the rest of the strip betwixt her ling fingers. As the silence brought about by Susan's leaving ensued, Caspian realized that he would be spending his entire day with the lady before him. This new epiphany frightened him just a little.

To break the silence, he asked; "What, exactly, did you have planned for today?"

She finished chewing her food, swallowed and said; "I was planning on watching some movies, relax, maybe work on a history project." She stressed the word maybe by drawing out the vowel in a playful manner. "You're welcome to join me." She met his chocolate eyes with her violet ones.

He paused, unsure what she was offering. "What is a movie?"

The girl went quiet for a moment, and Caspian was sure she was considering her words carefully. "A movie is a way to tell a story that uses very fast moving pictures with sound. The story is recorded on a silver disk and a sort of box window moves the pictures and generates the sound. Most stories, called 'movies' or 'films' are about two hours long." She smiled and stood up to clear away their empty plates and wash them quickly while he thought on what she said.

"I should very much like to see these movies."

Caspian watched as Josephine moved languidly into the living room and to the far corner where they kept what he could only assume was what she called 'DVDs'. She grabbed three very thin, but wide boxes, and then spun around to face him. For his inspection she held up the boxes with pale fingers. "Which on first? On the agenda today is: _Twilight, Stardust, _and _The Princess Bride_."

They all sounded rather ridiculous to him, but as he wasn't going to make any progress on getting the help he needed until Susan returned home, he figured that it wouldn't hurt him to watch them all with Josephine. "What are they about?'

"_Twilight _is a sort of star-crossed lovers with vampires. _Stardust_ is an adventure / fairytale with a Fallen Star as the heroine. _The Princess Bride_ is about true love with a lot of action thrown in."

Caspian frowned, all three sounded like various degrees of horrible, though the idea of a _vampire_ rather intrigued him. In Narnia, the only references of vampires were from ancient stories that the Kings and Queens of old had brought with them. With some hesitation in his voice he said "_Twilight…_?" This seemed to be the correct response because Josephine positively glowed in excitement. She quickly inserted the silver disk in another strange box that had a little tray that slid out. Caspian sat gingerly on their sofa as the larger screen started to glow and the movie started.

[~*~]

Josephine felt ever so slightly ridiculous and guilty for making a buff warrior King watch up to six hours of girly, true love drenched movies; but then again, this was her day to relax, and it wasn't her fault that he was here. As the opening scene for _Twilight_ started up, with the deer being chased and killed, Josephine wondered what, exactly, Caspian was doing here. _Well, really, he did have a kingdom to rule, didn't he? _She felt as if she shouldn't ask him though—he seemed like a man who enjoyed his space—the strong silent type, he was.

About five minutes in, Josephine realized that Caspian would have absolutely no idea what half the things in the movie were—as they didn't have cars, airplanes or cell phones in Narnia; heck they didn't even have electricity. "If you're not sure what something is…" she let the phrase hang in the air, unsure if he would take offence at being asked if he needed help—most men, especially the strong and silent types, were weird about asking for help. The man on the opposite side of the sofa nodded absent mindedly at her; he seemed rather enraptured by the story, actually and Josephine decided that he could probably figure things out himself.

The day progressed fairly quickly; Caspian asked her a few questions during _Twilight_ and afterwards expressed disbelief that any self respecting woman would fall in love with a man that hated himself and sparkled.

They viewed _Stardust, _which Josephine professed to be her favorite movie ever, second. Caspian seemed to enjoy that film better, possibly because it was set in less modern times. He also seemed to find the way the hero and heroine defeated the witch very interesting.

"You know, stars take human form in my world too." Caspian volunteered after the movie was finished. Josephine looked surprised.

"Really? That's so cool. Here they're just massive orbs of gas in space, billions of light years away. I think I would prefer it if they were human like, though. It would make me feel somehow less lonely."

Caspian frowned and looked somewhat concerned and intrigued. "Are you very lonely? I believe last night you said you didn't have friends."

Josephine was slightly taken aback—she was surprised that he had taken what she said seriously, and she was amazed that he remembered the conversation last night. She wasn't sure if she should confide in him; really she hadn't known him for a full day—and she still wasn't sure if she believed that he was King Caspian X—but then again, who what he going to tell? As far as she could see, he only knew Nana and her. She gave him a half smile. "Yeah, I guess I was just a weird kid; I dunno, I chattered to my imaginary friends in public and wouldn't shut up about Nana's Narnia—well, your Narnia, I guess" she glanced sideways at him through her thick black lashes. "Plus my eyes are an unusual color, even if I think they're pretty, children will tease you about anything that's not common in their little worlds. So, as we grew older, it became habit for my classmates to say away from me." Josephine, upon observing the small look of pity in his lovely chocolate eyes, quickly changed the subject. "So, its lunch time, what do you say I introduce you to culinary wonders of the frozen food aisle."

Josephine had to laugh at his apprehensive look. "Don't worry, it's perfectly delicious and usually safe."

[~*~]

And thus Caspian found himself eating what the enigmatic Josephine called 'pepperoni pizza'; it was a strange, greasy, chewy triangular red food. He wasn't sure if he liked it or not, but he would definitely have another slice to find out.

Caspian suddenly found himself reaching for the absent sword that was usually at his side when he heard a strange high pitched ringing. Josephine lithely left her chair and leap across the room to pick up an oblong box into which she began speaking.

"Hello?...No, Nana, I haven't burnt the house down, yet… He's fine. We've been watching movies…_Twilight _and_ Stardust_…I made pizza!...mmhmm…mmmhmm, love you too, bye!" She turned to smiled at him and Caspian realized that she had a very pretty face—especially when she was smiling.

"Just Nana calling to make sure I haven't accidently killed you or burn the house down."

He raised an eyebrow, "And does she have good reason to be worried about that sort of thing?" And much to his dismay, Josephine did not answer him, but simply giggled and returned to her lunch.

The rest of the afternoon preceded much as the morning. Josephine convinced Caspian that his ability to function as a male and get a girlfriend totally and completely depended on watching _Princess Bride_ and so, he found himself feeling much as the narrator's grandson—apprehensive, and then transfixed.

"Are you saying that if I ever want to find myself a Queen, I should behave in a manner akin to this Wesley?"

Josephine nodded dreamily.

"What? Leave her for years at the mercy of cruel, conniving, murderers?"

She rolled her eyes, "You're missing the point. He did it all for her—he left to make his fortune, so they could have a good life together. He put up with her being a sob because he knew she was perfect underneath that prickly exterior. He died for her; it's really romantic."

Caspian snorted in disbelief."Dying—for anything—is not romantic. It's painful for the dead one and the ones they leave behind."

"_Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for awhile."_ She quoted at him; he found it quite irritating.

"Life isn't one of your fairy stories Josephine; people die every day in your world and mine, for reasons a thousand times less honorable than love. People are killed for common, sinful reasons—it almost always has nothing to do with love. Don't delude yourself."

"Jesus, what's your problem?!"

"You're just so naive!"

"Well, who died and made you King of the Cynics?" she shrieked.

"HEY! You know nothing of my life, don't you dare speak of it!" He found himself thundering back at her; he realized that they were standing rather close, glaring at each other and breathing hard.

"I know more than you think, Caspian, nephew of Miraz." She hissed in a low, poisonous whisper. She suddenly whirled around—tendrils of blond hair hit is chest and stung his face—and marched into the hall way. He followed her to the doorway.

"Where are you going?"

She was half way up the stairs, but turned to face him—from the backlighting of the window behind her head, she appeared to have a halo of light around her golden hair. It was a strange feeling for him, looking up at a woman—he was so tall, it was usually odd for him to even look up at a man.

"I am going to my room, _your majesty_." She inclined her head in a mocking way. "I am going to do homework. Do not bother me." She turned back on her path and swept up the rest of the staircase.

Caspian had to admit to himself that Josephine had the demeanor and makings of a queen, and how could she not, with Susan as a grandmother.

[~*~]

Josephine slammed her door as hard as she could—something, that if her Nana was home, would have gotten her computer taken away—and stormed over to her desk ready to write a seething essay on Henry VIII and his wife felling reign.

_How dare he yell at me? How dare he call me naive!_ She thought. She shirked and shoved a stack of books off her desk, enjoying the loud crash they made and the satisfaction at causing something to fall. _Damn him! Damn him and his superiority, his worldliness. Damn his lovely eyes and gorgeous cheekbones. Damn him to the ninth level of Hell._

So what if she had some rage issues? It made her a more interesting person. She caught her pale reflection in the mirror and paused; her cheeks were flushed scarlet and her eyes glittered with some mad emotion. "What are you looking at?" she spat at herself.

Josephine was alarmed at the type of emotion that her little argument with the handsome Caspian had brought to the surface. She sighed and scooted out of her chair to kneel on the floor in front of her windows. She placed her hands on her knees and closed her violet eyes. Josephine started to concentrate only on her breathing. Inhale, exhale. In, out. Slowly she felt the color leave her face and her blood pressure go back to normal.

A moment later she hear Nana's car in the drive.


	3. Mi Princesita

**Yay! Chapter 3! Wooo. Lots of fluff in this one too, but we can always do with more fluff. So, read on loves. Review?**

Chapter 3

Phyllis Whitehall—as she was so used to being called, now—walked into her American farm house to a stony, sullen, silence that made the hair on her arms stand on end. When she had called at lunch, Josephine had seemed happy and assured her that everything was going fine; but now, as she walked into the living room to find Caspian still as a marble statue in, looking out the window, she was quite sure that something disagreeable had happened.

Caspian was so deep in thought that he didn't even notice Phyllis' presence. She figured that she would get more information out of her granddaughter than the taciturn king in her living room, so she turned and mounted the stairs, following a hunch that her capricious granddaughter would be holed up in her room listening to something unbearably loud and angry that she called 'music'.

Phyllis opened the white door herself to find Josephine kneeling on the floor in meditation—something she seemed to only do when she was or had been recently very upset or angry. The girl cracked open one violet eye and looked at her grandmother in a haughty manner. "Yes, Nana?"

"What happened?" She asked pointedly.

"What makes you think anything happened?"

"Because I know you, Josephine. If nothing had happened, you would be downstairs making the poor boy watch_ The Notebook_ or some such nonsense." She snapped.

"Please. That movie is terrible; I wouldn't be caught dead within ten feet of it."

"Nevertheless, what happened?"

Josephine sighed heavily; Phyllis could tell she was annoyed at having to explain her behavior—a trait she'd had since she could talk. "We had an argument." She spoke with her mouth as well as her eyes—opening the violet orbs wide to show how ridiculous she thought the whole conversation was.

"Well, I expect you downstairs in a half an hour for dinner. And you better apologize." She was quite amazed at how much her second command seemed to offend her granddaughter.

"Are you kidding me? Not until he apologizes to me."

Phyllis was confounded as to the infantile attitude that Josephine was adopting. "Josephine, grow up." And with that she turned on her sneakered foot and marched out the room to go and apologize to Caspian for whatever damage her immature granddaughter had inflicted.

[~*~]

Josephine watched her grandmother's retreating back, and decided that everyone was making way to big a deal out of one small argument. It wasn't like she was throwing a fit because her grandmother had lied to her about who she was for sixteen years. Nana had said she was Phyllis Whitehall—she probably legally changed her name, anyway—but this Caspian said that she was actually Susan Pevensie. Josephine found that she didn't really mind; a name was a label and labels didn't matter as long as she knew the true nature of the thing. Her Nana was her Nana; she didn't care if the woman's real name was Anne Boleyn.

Her train of thought reminded her of the essay that she needed to write. Josephine grudgingly stood up, stretched and made her way back to her desk; though not before picking up the books she had unceremoniously knocked to the floor. She started to type furiously.

Half an hour later Josephine found herself seated opposite Caspian at the white kitchen table, with her Nana at the head. She pushed around her beef stroganoff on the orange ceramic plate.

"Josephine, I think you should take Caspian to get some new clothing tomorrow." Nana broke the silence and gave Josephine a pointed look.

Josephine put her fork down almost roughly, "But Nana, I have opening night for _Hamlet_ tomorrow."

"Well, its Saturday, do it in the afternoon." Her grandmother—who often gestured with her hands when she spoke—waved her fork around wildly and Josephine had to stifle a giggle as Caspian dodged quickly so as not to be stabbed. "Take my Macy's card, I get the reward points that way."

"What is Hamlet?" Caspian suddenly asked, addressing Phyllis, though Josephine was the one to answer him.

"A famous play. About a prince whose uncle killed his father, marries his mother and usurps his rightful throne. Hamlet suffers from inner conflict and can't act on the revenge his father's ghost demands. Basically, everyone either goes crazy or dies a horrible, painful death or both." She finally took a bite of dinner while he processed what she had said; her grandmother watched the idly from behind her water glass.

"Ah," was all he said for a moment, then "sounds rather familiar. And who are you in this play?"

She smiled proudly; "I'm Lady Ophelia, Hamlet's sweetheart. After he inadvertently kills my father, I go mad and drown."

"Oh…"

Dinner continued in relative silence, apart from Nana giving a quick summary of her day after Josephine enqured. Afterwards, Josephine headed up to her room to work more on her essay while Nana and Caspian shuffled off to the living room—as far as Josephine could tell—to talk about why he was here. She figured her presence wasn't needed; and if they ever decided to clue her in on what was going on, they would be more likely to do it on their own vocation and not because she was nosing around.

Although before she ascended to her bedroom, Josephine decided to be the 'bigger person'. She caught Caspian by the arm—absent mindedly surprised by how muscular he was—and looked into his eyes. "I'm sorry about going all psycho bitch on you earlier; I just don't like it when people point out my character flaws."

Caspian smiled with his mouth and eyes, though Josephine wasn't sure if he understood the term 'psycho bitch' completely. "Of course mi princesita Josephine; I too apologize for my rash words and over sensitivity."

Josephine smiled and nodded before continuing upstairs. She was quite sure that that was the first time she'd ever heard a man confess that he'd been over sensitive.

Once she was seated again, she booted up her computer and, with Taking Back Sunday's 'Cute without the E, Cut from the Team' blaring, she get to work editing her essay on Henry VIII's utter megalomaniacal tenancies and lack of self control.

It wasn't until she was safely snuggled in her covers hours later that she thought 'what the hell did he call me?' Josephine replayed the conversation with Caspian over and over in her mind, but unfortunately, he spoke his native language so quickly—obviously—that she couldn't discern what he had said. She rolled over on to her back and resolved to pounce on him with questions in the morning.

Two hours later, Josephine still had not fallen asleep; the fact that she couldn't place what Caspian had said bothered her to no end—it was like an itch just out of reach. She also saw her own folly in studying French for six years instead of Spanish—which was much closer to Caspian's Telmarine dialect, as far as she could tell. It seemed whenever there was a puzzle or a word on the edge of her tongue, Josephine simply couldn't let well enough alone; she had to know. This trait was really quite awkward and annoying around the time that all the girls in her class were getting the 'birds and the bees' talk, and, much to Josephine's torment, Nana had refused to tell her. Well, long story short, things came to a head when Josephine had googled 'sex'. It had been quite an eye opening and rather shocking experience.

She tossed around for a moment more, before kicking her blankets off and standing up in her moonlight drenched room.

[~*~]

Caspian was dreaming—he knew so, because at the moment he was trying to decide which snorkel would be a better birthday present for his aunt. This was obviously a dream for two distinct reasons; firstly, his aunt had hated him and his family—besides his uncle, obviously—and therefore he had never given her birthday gifts any particular thought. Usually he'd just tell his valet to pick something out. Secondly, this was a dream because there were no such things as snorkels in Narnia; and even if there were, they would not be plastic or bright neon colors of fuchsia or day glow orange.

"Caspian! You must choose; my birthday is tomorrow." He looked up from the wooden table to see his aunt in a rather fetching red dress imploring him with her hands.

"Caspian! Caspian!"

His eyes shot open at the same moment as his hand clamped down in an iron grip on someone's arm that was reaching to touch his shoulder.

"Good God, Caspian. What do you do? Crush rocks for fun?" Came Josephine's soft voice from the almost complete darkness. He let go of her slight wrist and sat up.

"Yes, actually, it strengthens the wrist so I can properly wield my sword." In the near complete blackness of the room, Caspian could almost see her giving him a quizzical look—he most certainly could imagine her doing so. He studied Josephine quietly, waiting for her to speak whatever words she came to say, until he noticed something oddly beautiful. "You kind of glimmer or glow in the darkness…like there is light underneath your skin."

She giggled. "That's only because I'm so god-awful pale." Somehow, he wasn't sure if that was the real reason she seemed to be full of light; maybe he was just really exhausted and seeing things, though. Caspian sensed movement a moment before he felt her sit gingerly on the edge of his bed.

"May I ask as to what I owe this midnight visit too?"

"Well" he could hear the hesitation in her voice, "you're going to think I'm totally crazy; but, have you ever been lying in bed wondering what someone said to you, and you can sleep because you just didn't understand them at all and you absolutely have to know what they said?"

Caspian considered her words, trying to think of a time when that happened to him. "No, I can't say that I have."

"Oh. Well, anyway, I was wondering, what did you call me before?"

The question caught Caspian off guard; he had never expected this girl—strange as she was—to wake him up in the middle of the night to ask what term of endearment he had used during a three minute conversation. After a moment, he said, "Mi princesita, my princess."

She sat quietly for a moment and he thought she might have been blinking rapidly, though it was hard to tell in the darkness. Finally she spoke. "I'm not a princess."

He had to smile at that. "Of course you are. Your grandmother is a Queen, isn't she? And besides, I'm king of Narnia, if I say you are a princess, you are a princess."

He heard her laugh softly next to him. "Well, if your Majesty insists." She spoke playfully. "Am I just a general princess of Narnia then? A Princess of the Blood?" She giggled again. "You have to be more specific."

Caspian thought for a moment, trying to remember what he was supposed to say when he bestowed a title of nobility on someone. "What is your full name?"

"Josephine Arielle Whitehall"

"I, King Caspian X of Telmar and Narnia by Law of Succession and Conquest invest in you the honor of royalty and nobility. From this day forward you shall be respected and honored as Princess Josephine Arielle Whitehall-Pevensie the Fiery, Infanta of Telmar, Princess Royale of Narnia, and Lady of the Lone Islands and Cair Paravel. There, now you are a princess for certain."

"The Fiery?! What is that supposed to mean?"

Her voice hinted at playful outrage. He couldn't help but laugh at her. "Because of your personality, mi princesita."

She lightly smacked his arm. "My personality is lovely and you know it."

They sat there for a moment; and Caspian was surprised to find that the silence wasn't awkward. That made him quite happy because he often wished to find more people with whom he could enjoy companionable silence. The worst thing was being around a person who had to constantly fill the air with meaningless chatter. Now that his eyes had adjusted to the darkness he studied the girl sitting next to him again; the first thing he noticed was her lack of modest clothing. Caspian quickly averted his eyes in shock—it seemed that women in this world wore practically nothing to bed. Josephine was dressed in a tight fitting shirt with only thin straps to hold it up. Her pants, if pants they were, came up to her mid thighs and were quite tight. He coughed and found that he really was having problems not looking at her long, pale legs and arms, her neck and shoulders. He found that he particularly liked the way her skin enveloped her bone structure like quick silver.

She suddenly stood up and stretched, as though the absurdity of the situation had finally stuck her. "I think I'm going to shuffle off to bed, long day tomorrow and what not." She turned to look at him, as if she were considering something. After a moment she leaned forward, and, as her golden curls fell around their faces like a curtain of sunlight and Caspian inhaled her moonlight and lilac sent, she pressed her velvet lips to his cheek in a chaste kiss. "Thanks for not getting mad about me waking you up."

Then she was gone and Caspian had to shake his head in wonder at what sort of being she was, for Josephine Whitehall was absolutely too real, too unpredictable, and too beautiful to be human.

* * *

**I feel like I'd better explain the titles more. _Infanta_ is spanish title of royalty given to lesser princesses (i.e. Princesses who were not first in line to inheirt the throne.) I figured since most people make the Telmar dialect close to or the same as Spanish, I'd make the Telmeraine culture Spanish also. The title '_Princess Royale_' is usually given to English Princesses of the Blood--which means that they're not the daughters of the reigning monarch, but the are closely related to the King or Queen. Princess Royales are usually neices or cousins to the sovereign. I thought these titles would be more appropreate because Caspain is recognizing her royal Narnian Blood, but not making her heir apparent or anything. Woo. I think I just filled my history nerd quota for today. **


	4. Yay Shopping!

**The list of books I mention later isn't fictitious--you all should totally google it, because that's my goal in life, to read all those books. : ) I'm such a nerd. Anyway, here's chapter 4. I'm not totally happy with this chapter, but it does have fluff and plot development, so I guess I should be placated. In other news, I filled out a Beta profile, so if anyone is interested...Review? Read on!**

Chapter 4

The next morning, by the time that both Josephine and Caspian were awake and ready to go to the mall, it was already eleven a.m. Neither of them mentioned their interlude the night previous, for which Josephine was quite thankful—it took a lot of courage, or perhaps stupidity, to wake Caspian up, talk with him, then kiss him at two in the morning and Josephine was unsure of how he felt about it. For the first time in her social life she found that it did, in fact, matter what someone other than her Nana thought of her.

"I am ready." Came Caspian's voice from behind her. She turned from looking out the front door to look at him.

"You are so not leaving the house dressed like that." She scoffed, feeling like his mother. He was in the clothes he had worn both days previous and truth be told he looked like had been on his way to a Renaissance festival and got lost. Though supposedly, that was the way he was should dress in Narnia, so it really wasn't his fault.

"What's wrong with this?" He asked, gesturing in general to his—muscular—torso.

Josephine snorted. "You look like you fell out of the fifteenth century."

"I sort of did."

She studied him for a moment with her violet eyes and pursed her lips. "Regardless, you can't walk around the mall dressed like that." Josephine grabbed his hand and pulled him upstairs. "Come with me."

She dug through her chest of drawers as Caspian stood awkwardly just inside of her doorway, gazing around.

"This is your bed chamber?" He asked.

Josephine poked her head up from the bottom drawer. "Yeah. I got to decorate it myself…You can sit down, if you like." She motioned absently to the general direction of her computer desk.

He nodded and made his way over to the desk to sit down, though before he reached his intended destination he got side tracked by her bookshelves.

"You have many books, have you read them all?" Caspian said; a slight amount of envy in his voice.

Josephine turned and stood up, a blue hooded sweatshirt in her hand. "Most of them. Over there on the wall next to you is a list of books I want to read, so I understand the world better." She walked over to where he was standing and while pointing out the list—which was titled "The Top 123 Books you should read so you're not an idiot" compiled by Team503—she handed him the sweatshirt. "Here, put this on instead of your, um, armor."

Caspian nodded and started to unbuckle the blue leather vest. "I think that only the royal library in Narnia has this many books."

Josephine tried, unsuccessfully, to keep the shock out of her voice. "Really?" She glanced around her room; she had about four full sized bookshelves full, plus two other half sized ones in the loft area. It wasn't that bad, really. "Well, I guess that makes sense if no one in Narnia has invented the printing press."

He looked up, pulling his head through the hood, "You must tell me about this printing press." He urged.

Josephine smiled at him from under her eyelashes. "On our way to the mall, I will."

Getting on into the car was more eventful that Josephine had first expected it to be. For starts, Caspian had practically bulked when she told him that he had to get into her 'possessed metal death trap', as he put it.

Josephine had rolled her violet eyes and got in the car quite calmly. She reached across the passenger seat to pop open his door. "For the love of God, it's not going to eat you, I promise." Caspian gave her a withering look and gingerly sat down on the cracked leather seats. Once she showed him how to put the seat belt on—a task that she found almost too pleasant for her liking, after all she had to reach around him at one point, bringing her quite close to the king—everything seemed to be fine, though he did jump when she turned on the radio. Caspian sat quietly—all thoughts of printing presses seemingly out of his mind for the moment—while Josephine started to sing along to one of her favorite bands.

"_I wanna, I wanna, I wanna touch you_

_You wanna touch me too_

_Every way and when they set me free_

_Just put your hands on me."_

"You have lovely singing voice." Caspian complimented. Josephine chuckled.

"Hardly, I wish I could sing well, but I'm just average." Silence, apart from the radio, ensued and Josephine felt the need to make up for her social gaffe. "Hmm, so anyway, I figured if anyone asks who you are, though no one will because I'm a social pariah, we could just say you're my cousin who's visiting from Spain."

Caspian laughed and Josephine found that she liked the sound of it. "But, mi princesita, we look nothing alike; you are at least ten skin tones lighter than me."

Josephine studied him for a moment out of the corner of her eye. "Fine, if you want to difficult, you can just be my boyfriend."

"What, exactly, does that entail?" He didn't look worried—which made her feel better—just slight curious.

She shook her head. "You know, you're all really sheltered in Narnia. It's like a suitor; someone who is seriously romantically interested in the other person."

He paused a moment, considering her words. "I guess I could do that." Josephine was relieved to see that Caspian was smiling when he spoke. "So tell me about the printing press."

The rest of the forty-five minute drive was spent with Josephine explaining things like the printing press and the reformation while singing along with the radio. Caspian, for his part, asked many questions and seemed relatively at east—even if they were going about eighty miles an hour—though he never did let go of the 'oh shit' handle.

Upon reaching the mall—which Josephine had explained was like a massive indoor market—she was happy to fine a fairly close parking spot, it was Saturday afternoon after all. They got out of the car and she locked the door, though Josephine would be happier if the thing got stolen, because then Nana would have to cave and buy her a newer car that wasn't older than she was. "Alright, we've got five hours before I have to get home and get ready for tonight. I guess we'll start with Macy's, since Nana gave me her card."

[~*~]

Caspian had never seen so many readymade things in one location before; it was positively decadent. He followed Josephine quickly as she wound her way through the labyrinth like building. After about five minutes of traipsing around, they finally arrived at a shop that seemed to belong to a person called Macy. She led him over to a corner in the store that seemed to be devoted to clothes for men.

"What size are you?" She asked eyeing a pair of pants that were comprised of the same material as her own—something she called denim.

"Excuse me!?" her query caught him off guard, though he was quite sure that she did not mean what he thought she meant, but it was still shocking all the same to be asked by a woman. Josephine turned her big, violet eyes onto him.

"Wait, you get your clothes custom made, don't you?" He nodded, relieved. She pursed her lips –something, he noticed, that she did when she was thinking. "Hhhmm. Well, I guess, just pick out some stuff and we'll figure out what fits."

Caspian, despite his initial misgivings, found himself having fun. Josephine informed him that he needed to have at least two pair of jeans, a pair of khaki pants, and black dress pants—though he favored the dress pants over the less formal clothing. After some arguing he finally got her to agree that three pairs of black pants and one pair of jeans would be better.

He picked a pair off of the metal tree thing and showed Josephine.

After looking them over, she showed him the little white tag on the inside. "I don't think those will fit, they're a size 40 inch waist; you look…" she paused, and Caspian was sure she attempting not to blush. "you look too athletic to have that size."

He couldn't help the smirk that crossed his face, but he did quickly turn it into a smile. "So, which ones will fit, then?"

She shrugged her pale shoulders delicately. "You'll have to try a few on." She then proceeded to grab a few of the same pants—though he assumed they were of different sizes—then pushed him into a small room with about ten smaller chambers inside.

Caspian decided that, though it was fun, shopping with Josephine was also utter pandemonium. The moment he was satisfied with one article of clothing, she would throw a shirt or pants or a belt over the small door to his dressing cubical and the process of finding the right size, deciding if he liked it, having Josephine decide if she liked it, then finding something else that would match would start all over again. By the end of two and a half hours he was in the possession of three pairs of black dress pants—one of which, he was wearing at Josephine's behest—, a pair of dark blue jeans, two white button up shirts, a dark blue button up shirt—which he was also wearing, with the sleeves rolled up, like a commoner—, and a few tee shirts that Josephine had insisted were 'so damn cool' he just had to get them.

After that ordeal she sent him over to the 'socks and underwear' corner by himself, saying that it would be just too mortifying picking out his boxer shorts.

And now Caspian found himself in a place called the 'food court' with Josephine and two massive white bags with red stars on them. Josephine had complained that she was starving and he agreed that he could do with a meal; and so, here he was, eating something called 'a panda bowl' that contained a strange orange ooze covered chicken product. He had been tentative to try it—because, to be honest, it looked toxic—but Josephine had promised that it would be the most delicious thing he'd ever eat, so Caspian had given in, and found that she, as usual, had been right.

Suddenly, Caspian felt the beautiful girl across from him tense up. He looked around to find the source of Josephine's discomfort and his eyes fell on a grossly thin girl with an inch of cosmetics caked on her face; she was approaching their table, smiling at him.

"Josephine! How _wonderful_ to see you! Who's your friend?" The girl, though addressing Josephine, never took her mud brown eyes off of Caspian. He chanced a glance at Jo, and from the look on her face he wouldn't have been surprised if she growled at the newcomer. But, then she smoothed her face into a void, but pleasant smile and tossed her lovely yellow hair nonchalantly.

"Hello, Michaela. This is my boyfriend, Caspian Telmar. He's an exchange student at the University…from Spain."

The girl, Michaela, faltered a moment, but then regained her smile. "Where in Spain?" She asked him.

"Toledo" Josephine stated easily, Caspian just smiled and nodded—though he was a bit surprised at how easy lying came to her.

Michaela, who seemed to be sure there was something not right about what was being said, asked in a nasty voice, "so, is Caspian taking you to the Prom?"

Josephine faltered and glanced at Caspian, unsure. He could tell that she didn't want to commit him to something that he'd rather avoid, but on the other hand, she didn't want this Michaela to find out her lies. Caspian smiled tenderly at Josephine and turned to the annoying girl. "Of course I am escorting Josephine to the Prom. What sort of gentleman would I be if I did not?"

For extra effect, he reached across the small table and gently tucked a lock of golden hair behind Josephine's ear, letting his finger tips graze her soft, pale cheek in the process. Caspian could sense her shock at his action, as well as hear her sharp intake of breath at his touch—though to her credit, Josephine kept her face pleasant and believable the whole time. They both heard Michaela shuffle off dejectedly and he dropped his hand slowly, so as not to startle Josephine.

"I thought you said people didn't talk to you." He teased.

She rolled her Tyrian eyes at him. "She only came over here because you're a stud muffin; for a politician you're not very observant."

He chuckled. "I was joking, mi princesita." Caspian could not help but notice that Josephine ducked her head so she could hide her red blushing cheeks behind the wall of golden hair.

There were a few more moments of silence while they both finished their late lunch, then Josephine looked at her 'cell phone' to check the time and it was decided that they should return home.

[~*~]

As they drove, Josephine noticed that Caspian was unusually quiet as compared to the ride to the mall. She worried that she had offended him somehow—perhaps he was regretting telling Michaela that he would go to the Prom; after all, he didn't even know what it was. Or maybe he didn't like being called a 'stud muffin'. She felt herself purse her lips together. Josephine chanced a glance over at him; he was staring out the window, though it seemed as if he wasn't really seeing the sparse early winter landscape.

Josephine took a deep breath. "Caspian, are you ok?" He turned to look at her, a sad smiled on his handsome face.

"I was just thinking…"

"Oh?" She prompted gently.

"Well, it seems like I've just been sitting here, having fun. I really should be trying to help my people."

Josephine was unsure that to say, so she said the first thing that popped into her head. "I thought you and Nana were, like, fixing it at night."

Caspian snorted. "Not really. We're just _discussing_. Susan is always so practical; it's frustrating sometimes."

It was weird hearing Nana be called 'Susan', but she let it slide. "Maybe…maybe if you tell me what's going on, I could, you know, help. I'm really good with ideas…" She felt silly offering, especially when Caspian turned to face her looking incredulous. She blushed.

"Or not…whatever."

He shook his head a moment then smiled a little—though it was still a sad smile. "Perhaps…yes, perhaps." he nodded to himself, then opened his mouth again, to speak.

"Josephine, mi princesita, the White Witch is back."

* * *

**Oh boy, oh boy! Cliffhangerish thing.**

**Poor Caspian, first he has to watch girly movies, then he gets dragged shopping and now he has to go to the prom (maybe). I'm so mean. But worry not, Josephine's going to get dragged all over the place later.  
**

**On a side note, has anyone noticed that when your story is in Word it will give you one word count, but the document editor on Fanfiction[dot]net gives you a different word count?  
**


	5. Hamlet anyone?

**Greetings from_ Bjorklunden vid Sjon_**. **Seriously, I'm at a resort with that name for my mom's cousin's 'Hey we got married in Denmark' party. It's really quiet beautiful, perhaps I'll post some pictures on my livejournal account and put up some linkage on my homepage here. Anyhoo, here's chapter 5**, **hope you enjoy it. I don't think I have too much to say, except, thank you to everyone who's reviewed, especially RunningWithaTaintedMind and Trichwin; you guys made me feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside. Oh and for those of you who haven't guess already, I totally love _Hamlet_...I'm such a nerd, but my former English teacher--who loves _Hamlet_ more than I do--would be so proud. :) Read on and review?**

Chapter Five

Josephine was so shocked by his words that she nearly drove into the ditch—which wouldn't have been such a problem, except, when she went to right the car, the wheels hit a patch of black ice and the ancient vehicle spun down the country highway like stunt driver doing cherries down the race track.

"WHAT? Ah oh my God! Oh my God! We're sliding!" She screamed frantically.

"What the hell is happening?! You're going to kill us!" Caspian roared.

"I DON'T KNOW! Oh my God; I'm going to die a virgin!" Josephine threw her hands in front of her face in shame. Caspian dove for the steering wheel, jerking them out of the opposite lane. Suddenly there was a sickening crack and they stopped moving.

An eerie stillness ensued. Josephine peered through her fingers to find Caspian's face centimeters from hers—he looked one hundred percent freaked out. She could hear his oddly steady breathing and smell his musky scent. They stared at each other for a full minute in shock, then realization hit her.

"Oh my God, what did I smash into!?" She quickly undid her seat belt and literally tumbled out of the car; Caspian followed suit, though much more gracefully. He was at her side in moments, helping her to her feet. After she was righted, Josephine couldn't help but notice that Caspian kept his large, warm hand at the small of her back. They both turned their eyes to the front of the car.

"Holy crap. How did we not die?"

The front end of her car was wrapped around the trunk of a very large evergreen tree. Branches poked out from everywhere, but oddly, none penetrated the windshield.

"It looks like the tree is trying to eat your car." He observed, and much to her chagrin, Caspian was completely right; Josephine would have laughed if the situation had happened to anyone else.

Dusk was falling and it would get cold soon; she wiped out her cell phone and called Nana, who handled the information rather stoically, and then their neighbor, Lars Vanden Krouse, who just , luckily, happened to own a tow truck and garage.

She looked at Caspian, who was still at her side. "I am sooo sorry. I could have killed us both with that spazz out." She felt tears prick her eyes and she fought hard not to cry in front of the buff warrior king. Unfortunately for her, Josephine had never been particularly skilled at keeping her emotions in check and now was not the time to try; and thus a flood gate of tears spilled out. "I feel so pathetic!" she wailed. "Not only did I f-freak out and almost k-kill us both," sob. "But now I'm c-crying in the middle of East Jesus Nowhere, Wisconsin. An-…and I'm doing it in front of the most p-perfect man I've ever met." Sob. "Oh Hell, did I just s-say that out loud?"

Josephine sank to the hard, cold ground to wallow in self pity. She absently hoped Hades would decide to kidnap her right then and there so she could hide away under the earth. After a moment it was apparent that either the lord of the underworld was busy elsewhere, or she was no Persephone.

"Hey, Princesita…Josephine, don't cry." Josephine could detect none of the absolute cluelessness in his voice that most men had when confronted with a sobbing woman. She felt him gently take her hands in his and pull them away from her face before he suddenly pulled her into up to stand. "We are both alive, and I shouldn't have spoken so freely about such socking events without some sort of warning or preamble."

She sniffled and hiccupped in response—it was quite ladylike, actually. She heard Caspian chuckle and she glanced up sharply to reprimand him for laughing at her anguish, but when she saw the smiled on his face, she had to stop herself.

"Maybe I am being a bit dramatic." she deiced calmly. "Let's sit down and you can tell me more about...what's going on…"

She seated herself in the backseat of the car, away from any errant spark the engine might decide to throw at her. Caspian sat next to her, silent for a minute before he began talking.

"I suppose I should try to explain why I'm so young; from what Susan and I have discussed, my age shouldn't make sense—I should be dead and gone, or at the very least, a wizened, ancient old man. From what I've been able to piece together, I think there might be two Narnia worlds running parallel to each other, much like there is this world running parallel to Susan's Narnia. These two Narnias were one, up until sometime after the Kings and Queens of Old—Susan and her siblings—left, then some event happened to force the split, though I cannot tell what it was. This is why I've still just started my reign, even though Susan is eighty-one and Peter, Edmund, and Lucy are in Aslan's Place. I don't understand it very well, really." He paused and smiled apologetically.

Josephine tried to smile back encouragingly, though the effect was ruined a bit by her teeth chattering. Though it was only early October, the sun went down early in northern Wisconsin and it could get quite cold; it also didn't help that she was only wearing a thin long sleeved tee-shirt. "It's ok…is that all?"

"No, of course not, but, are you cold?" And without waiting for a reply, Caspian draped his well muscled arm around her slight shoulders, pulling her closer to his warm body and rubbing her outside arm with his hand.

She gave him a soft smile. "Thanks. Why is it men are always so much warmer than women? It's so unfair."

He laughed softly at her words. "Princesita, it's so we have an excuse to put our arms around you." She rolled her eyes at his teasing before he continued to speak. "Anyway, the first year that I was crowned King, the counsel and I started to receive reports of heavy snow fall and lasting ice even into May and June. We thought, perhaps, that it was simply hearsay and nothing more; but then we found people and animals frozen into statues. Obviously this discovery prompted old legends to start circulating. The peasants were whispering that the White Witch had returned to seek vengeance."

"But," Josephine interrupted, "how is that possible? I thought Edmund destroyed her."

Caspian shook his head almost violently. "No, her staff—the source of her power—wasn't broken. Edmund simply banished her from the Mortal Plane for...well, not very long actually. She rode into the capital on a polar bear and issued a challenge set for six months time."

Josephine realized her mouth was hanging open and promptly closed it. "What was the challenge for?" She cringed realizing a moment after she asked the question how obvious the answer was. He didn't make fun of her about it though, just answered her question.

"The throne of Narnia and Telmar, of course. She said I had six months to prepare and then I must meet her in front of Aslan's How to do battle. Normally, I would have taken any challenger on right away, but facing the White Witch means face ancient, dark magic—the kind that can shred the universe apart on a whim. I solicited the aid of Aslan himself, but he told me I should seek aid elsewhere, from the Kings and Queens of Old—he promised to make Time in all the worlds run parallel to each other so I had the full six months make myself ready."

Josephine let all the information sink in and mulled it over for a moment. "And what has Nana told you...or what are you looking for, exactly?" She questioned intently, hoping that somehow, she could help him; she was a Princess of Narnia after all.

"Well, I figured I'd need a weapon of sorts that could match her Ice Staff. Susan has been asking some of the professors of literature and mythology about any weapons that fit the description. After I find a something that will do, I have to figure out how to get back into the Woods Between the Worlds..."

Josephine pursed her lips, thinking—although the first thought that entered her head was _'boy he smells nice.'_; some mix of musk, wood, and leather. "So you want, like, a sword of fire, right?" He nodded. "I think Archangels have swords made of holy fire..."

Caspian cocked an eyebrow incredulously—which, she couldn't help but think, made him look rather sexy. "How do you know information like that simply off the top of you head?"

"I have no friends, remember? What else am I supposed to do but read?" She laughed at her own nerdiness.

Suddenly there was a rap on the window making Josephine jump. After her heart rate returned to normal, she leaned over and rolled the window down to the smiling face of Mr. Vanden Krause.

"Hello there, Josie. I'm going to need you both to step out of the car so I can hitch her up." He motioned behind himself to his tow truck. They quickly obliged, though Caspian kept his arm around her shoulders, much to Josephine's utter and irrational happiness.

For the next half an hour, Josephine and Caspian stood off to the side of the road while Lars towed the car away and Nana fussed about how they could have both been killed. Eventually they all made it home in Nana's Malibu and by that time it was already after five p.m. Josephine hurried upstairs to get ready for the play as Caspian filled Susan in on what had transpired.

[~*~]

Phyllis regarded the young man in front of her calmly, though underneath her stoic exterior, she felt a pang of jealousy. It simply wasn't fair that, while she was ancient, winkled, and shrunken; Caspian, who had been a mere two years older than her when they had first met, was still young, handsome, and strong. Seeing him, just as he was all those years ago, make her think of her long dead siblings—Peter especially.

She sat herself down in her favorite chair and sighed. Out of all her siblings, she had loved her golden brother the best. Phyllis knew it was unfair to assign preference, but she had always been closest to Peter. For a long while it had been just her and the eldest Pevensie; they had spent every waking minute with each other, until, of course, Edmund came along and then Peter had another boy to play rough with.

Still, whenever she couldn't sleep, or awoke suddenly from a nightmare, Susan always knew she could slip into Peter's room and he would make everything better.

The clearing of a throat brought her back to the present and instead of her golden haired brother before her, was another man who brought back memories—thought those memories were not quiet as dear or sweet. She smiled wearily.

"So, the new of the White Witch's return was what made Josephine crash her car? Why exactly would you tell her, anyway?" For some reason, she felt the irrational impulse keep her granddaughter away from everything Narnian—keep her way from this new debacle with the White Witch, and possibly even keep her away from Caspian.

He shrugged his broad shoulders. "She said she was good with ideas and offered to help. At the rate that we're getting things accomplished, I decided that I could use all the aid offered to me."

Phyllis felt a small surge of anger at this slight, but she breathed in and out slowly for a moment. "I doubt a silly girl like Josephine will have much knowledge of what we need." Perhaps that was a bit cruel, but she really didn't want Caspian getting Josephine involved in anyway.

"She mentioned that Angels have swords made of holy fire." Caspian interjected; coming to Josephine's defenses rather too quickly for Phyllis' liking.

She was about to speak, but a moment later, Josephine herself appeared in the doorway, hand resting on a cocked hip. She had changed into a light blue zip up hooded sweatshirt with the word "Roxy" written on the sleeve. Her long blonde hair had been pinned up into a ballerina bun. "Ready to go? You'll have to drive me and hang out it he lobby for a while, because we have only one vehicle."

Caspian raised his eyebrows, a look of confusion crossed his handsome face. "Where are we going?"

Josephine rolled her violet eyes at him, but smiled all the same. "I have my play tonight. Did you forget already?"

"Well, between the trauma of shopping with you and then you almost killing me..." Phyllis noticed a smile involuntary cross Caspian's face.

Josephine laughed. "You know you had fun, anyway, shall we go?"

[~*~]

Caspian was sitting in a weirdly comfortable red seat in the rather crowed auditorium next to Susan. The play, _Hamlet_, which he had been warned was extremely long, had opened about half an hour ago. He had not seen hide nor hair of Josephine yet, though her character's name had been mentioned a few times. He glanced around the large, dimly lit room; the rows of matching chairs were nearly filled and the lights attached to the dark wooden walls were turned down low. When he had entered the school building, Caspian had been a rather unnerved by the amount of people—mostly women—who stared openly at him. If it were not for the fact that he was king and, by now, used to being looked at, he would have felt uncomfortable.

The play so far seemed to be about a prince who's father had been killed by this uncle. Caspian had to smile grimly at the irony of that, of course. He was simply happy that, unlike this Hamlet, he neither went insane, nor had a living mother for his uncle to marry. Surprisingly, and despite the rather sour memories _Hamlet_ conjured up, Caspian found himself enjoying the performance.

He turned his attention back to the stage again, just as the second scene of the first Act was fading out. When the lights were brought back up, the stage was arranged to resemble the inside of a small house. A man walked on followed by the most beautiful girl Caspian had ever laid his eyes one. She was garbed in a light blue gown of silk that left her pale shoulders bare. The collar, sleeves, and cuffs, as well as two white strips of fabric down the center of the gown were embroidered with gold thread. Her lily white skin and long, gold hair glowed under the stage lights—whoever she was, she looked like she had stepped out of Narnia. The girl turned to face the man on stage and in the process faced the audience.

With a jolt of shock, Caspian realized that his dark, amorous gaze had fallen on Josephine.


	6. Deja Vu

**I pretty much wrote this in on straight sitting and then just went back and tweaked it this morning. I hope you like, lots of plot development in this one. Read and review? Also, if anyone is interested, I'm available for beta-ing.**

Chapter Six

The rest of the weekend and few subsequent days passed rather quickly. In the evenings, Josephine was busied with _Hamlet, _which was quite a success. Caspian made sure to attend all the performances—though he claimed it was because he had nothing better to do as he and Nana had made no new progress. He, of course, never mentioned to either Josephine or Susan how beautiful he had found Josephine when he had first laid eyes on her in her costume, and how beautiful he still found her, especially in her Ophelia dress; and, to be rational, he decided that it was simply a reaction to how attractive he already found her coupled with the fact that she looked as if she could have been from Narnia. It was simply the homesickness speaking.

Of course he didn't actually believe what he told himself. And he was really rather annoyed with himself about how much he was starting to like Josephine. For the love of Aslan, he had a throne to keep and a kingdom to rule; he did not need to be distracted by a pretty girl with violet eyes. Yet, he found himself inexplicably drawn to her, even when she was being stubborn or naive. For example, one night, after _Hamlet_ had closed, he and Josephine were watching some movie called _"The Phantom of the Opera"_. She claimed that the main character, Christine, should have stayed with the Phantom.

"She was being totally shallow. Just because that pansy, Raoul, has money and the poor Phantom is a little scarred—honestly, it's not even that bad."

Caspian stared at her incredulously. "But, he was a psychopath. He stalked her since she was five years old."

"But Raoul is so lame, at least the Phantom is determined—and he wasn't stalking, he was protecting."

He rolled his eyes. "You're the one being shallow; just because you find the Phantom more attractive." He elbowed her playfully in the side, though she knocked his arm away in an agitated manner.

After that, Josephine had gotten pretty mad at him, for calling her shallow, but he couldn't help notice that she was still cute when she crossed her arms angrily and glared at him.

"Oh, come on, Princesita. Don't glare like that, you'll give your pretty face wrinkles." He half teased. She stuck her tongue out at him in reply.

Phyllis, for her part, worked on searching for a weapon for Caspian and a way into the Woods Between the World; which she knew they would need if they ever wanted to retrieve the weapon and get back to Narnia. She also kept a close eye on her granddaughter and, needless to say, she was none too pleased to hear that Caspian had decided to escort Josephine to the Prom.

There was bit of friction in the house over whether or not Josephine had any business with Narnia. She wanted to help Caspian, she wanted to be included—especially because she had been dreaming about Narnia since she was a small child. Josephine secretly decided that this must be what Wendy felt like when Peter Pan first showed up at her nursery window and she didn't dare go with him for fear of leaving her brothers—she had the opportunity to go somewhere fabulous, with someone who was different from anything she could have ever dreamed. Yet, despite her best efforts to help, it seemed to Josephine as if Nana was trying to thwart her at every turn—the old woman refused to let Jo in on the nightly conversations and she seemed to prevent large patches of time where Josephine and Caspian would be alone together; the woman even began to come home from work early. The friction kept building everyday, and it seemed to Josephine like a two tectonic plates sliding next to each other—eventually all the friction and pressure would make the plates snap and an earthquake would bereleased. For the entire week all three of them walked around the house, waiting for the earthquake.

[~*~]

Josephine sat at the breakfast table at some ungodly early hour before school on that Friday morning. She was bleakly staring at a bowl of honey-nut cheerios wishing that she was still in bed—she had been having a wonderful dream about running around a forest with a beautiful lion and an even more beautiful woman. Nana was bustling around the room, trying to find a sheaf of papers that she had been grading the night previous, Josephine could have easily told the woman that the papers were in the living room, but she enjoyed watching her usually poised grandmother sweat a bit. Caspian sat, a little bleary eyed, across form Josephine, reading the morning paper. Suddenly, a thought occurred to Josephine.

"Nana, you'll have to pick me up from school today, we need to go prom dress shopping. I don't have anything to wear tomorrow night." Her car was still being repaired; Lars, their neighbor, said he would do it for less than most mechanics, so that Phyllis wouldn't have to buy a new vehicle. Needless to say, Josephine was a tad disappointed, though still grateful. "Oh and your papers are in the living room, on the windowsill next to your chair."

Phyllis turned around with a look of slight annoyance on her face, but then she seemed to calm down at the mention of her papers' location.

"Yes, that's fine. You school gets finished at three, am I correct?"

Josephine nodded and returned to her cheerios, basking in their sweet deliciousness. She took the final bite and was about to get up when Caspian spoke.

"Would you like me to accompany you?" Her head shot up at the sound of his lyrical accent and her violet eyes connected with Caspian's inky black ones. Josephine found that she really loved his eyes; they held dark, soulful charisma that drew her in like a moth to flame. If she looked deep enough, she could just make out a hint of mahogany behind the blackness. She suddenly realized she was staring like a starstruck moron and blinked rapidly a moment, trying to fight down a blush.

"What? Sorry, I mean..sure. You have to get a tux anyway." Her heart thumped extra hard when a warm smile spread across his handsome, chiseled face.

An hour later, Josephine found herself seated in a front row desk in her fist English block class. The top layer of fake wood on the desk was pealing off but had been taped on with masking tape by some anonymous student. She glance out the window to see a corpse of foreboding gray trees while her youngish teacher droned on about Merlin—he was giving background information on various Arthurian characters because the class was preparing to read _Le Mort D'Arthur_.

Josephine, for the most part, liked the way her school was set up. The block scheduling was nice—it helped her get a feel for what college would be like and it was less homework to worry about. The courses were usually pretty interesting, and the school offered quite a few AP classes. From overhearing conversations at work and lunch, the only weird thing about their school was they had a closed campus for lunch for every grade level and that they called all the dances "Prom"--homecoming Prom, Winter Prom, and Senior Prom. She had never been to a dance, because, honestly, she had no one to go with. Not just no date—because that wouldn't have bothered her so much—but she had not group of friends to go with either. All in all, she was pretty excited, though apprehensive, to go to Prom with Caspain.

"The character of Merlin is older than Arthurian legend; he figures into the Welsh Triads as a bard. Among other things, his is credited with hiding the thirteen treasures of Britain in _Hen Ogledd_." The teacher, Mr. Litz, surveyed the half-asleep class in dismay. "Oh, come on people. This is really kind of wonderful stuff. I'm talking about lightening fast chariots, impervious armor, swords of fire, cloaks of invisibility!" a loud snore came form the back and Mr. Litz shook his head in disbelief dramatically.

Josephine's head snapped back to attention and her pale hand shot into the air. Mr. Litz looked rather surprised, because, though Josephine was quite intelligent and an avid reader, she avoided speaking in class due to the fact that her fellow classmates would either make fun of what she said or ignore her completely during conversations or discussions. Mr. Litz usually had her come in for lunch and they would discuss the current book or play.

"Yes, Josephine?"

"Well, this is a bit off topic, but, I was wondering if you could tell me more about that sword of fire? My friend is writing a paper on magical weapons and is having problems finding information." She added the last sentence hastily, when she noticed the teacher's peculiar look.

He eyeballed the class quickly, then smiled. "Sure, no one's paying attention anyway. The sword was actually named 'Dyrnwyn', which, I believe, means 'white hilt'. The story goes that if the sword was draw or picked up by a worthy man—possibly meaning of noble or royal birth—the entire blade would blaze with purple flame; but if an unworthy man were to draw Dyrnwyn, the entire sword would burst into red flames and consumed the man in rage."

Josephine's eyes widened at the thought of being burnt alive by a sword. She could hardly believe that, though Nana had been employing the aid of 'experts', she had accidentally stumbled upon the answer to Caspian's riddle. She couldn't wait to tell him about it; maybe he'd hug her. She smiled at the thought of his strong arms being wrapped around her slim body again.

"So, where did Merlin take these treasures?" She inquired, because knowing about the sword would be useless unless they knew where to find it.

"As I said, Yr Hen Ogledd, which means 'the old north' in Welsh. It's more of a region than a specific place. I think its comprised of Cumbria in England and some parts of southern Scotland, but you'd have to ask someone who knows more about ancient British kingdoms."

Excitement buzzed in Josephine's veins and rolled not uncomfortably in the pit of her stomach. She couldn't wait to get home to tell Caspian and Nana what she'd learned. The bell rang and she, as well as everybody else, gathered up her books and headed to her second block statistics class. As she walked down the hall she was hit with a wall of strong, cheap perfume as the group of popular girls walked by. Suddenly, Josephine felt something hard slam into her shoulder. She looked up to see Michaela—the girl from the mall—walk by.

"What where you're going, Whitehall." Michaela sneered.

"Excuse me?" Josephine snapped, "you ran into me. Just because you're blind from malnourishment..."

Michaela spun around, annoyance and rage at being addressed as such by a 'nobody' was written on her heavily made up face. "You need to apologize to me right now, Whitehall."

"You must be stupider that you look if you think that I would ever apologize to you." Josephine could feel her blood start to boil, but she attempted to keep her emotions in check—no reason to get suspended over this.

"You little bitch! I feel bad for your poor, ugly grandma having to raise you."

Josephine thought she might burst a blood vessel at that comment. How dare that insolent little tart insult her, her grandmother and treat her like a child? At that moment all control she had over her emotions flew out the window. She threw her books on the floor and took a step towards the girl. "Its on, bitch! No one insults my Nana!"

Michaela's mud brown eyes widened and she held up her hands to try placate Josephine. Jo, on the other hand, balled her left hand into a fist and swung at the other girl, hitting her square in the throat. Michaela clutched her neck with a manicured hand and made a sound that was a cross between a gag and a wheeze. Josephine raised her fist to strike again, but she was suddenly yanked backwards as one of the other girls in Michaela's posse gave a vicious tug on her long golden hair.

Jo yelped and spun around, elbowing the second girl in the diaphragm in the process. The girl gasped, letting go of Josephine's hair and stumbled backwards.

"WHAT IN THE SAM HILL IS GOING ON HERE?!?" The disembodied voice of the school principal roared over the sea of students.

[~*~]

Phyllis have never been so angry or so disappointed with Josephine in the girl's entire life; and she had only felt this much disappointment once before. They drove back to the house in utter silence, as she stewed in her black emotions. Josephine sat quietly, looking out the window. Phyllis sincerely hoped that her granddaughter was thinking about her punishments.

The school had decided to suspend Josephine for a week starting Monday—though today, the principal had suggested she 'take the day off'. Phyllis was also furious that Jo was still allowed to attend Prom—and seeing as she had already purchased the tickets with Phyllis' money, she couldn't very well not go and therefore waist fifty dollars.

It was undecided if Michaela was going to press charges. The bitterly angry part of Phyllis almost hope she would.

The minute the car was stopped, Josephine ran into the house, calling for Caspian as she went. Phyllis followed quickly behind—_how dare she run to him!'_— and could head what her errant granddaughter was saying.

"I found a sword for you!"

Phyllis rounded into the living room and inserted herself between the king and her granddaughter—cutting off whatever it was Caspian was going to say. "What was it?" she demanded angrily.

Josephine met her grandmother's eyes defiantly. "She bumped me." For once there was no hint of blush or embarrassment in the girl's face.

"So you hit her?" Phyllis had an odd sense of deja vu.

"No, after she bumped me, she tried to make me apologize. That's when I hit her." Josephine replied in a snotty tone as she tossed a lock of hair over her shoulder nonchalantly.

"Really, is it that hard to just walk away?" She snapped, agitated. She was getting a migraine. Caspian had shifted his stance and was now standing next to Josephine, he looked on to the argument silently.

"I shouldn't have to! Didn't you ever get tired of being treated like a kid?" Jo questioned exasperatedly.

"You are a kid!" Phyllis retorted.

Josephine stamped her foot—if she hadn't know better, it looked like Caspian was trying not to laugh at

the infantile gesture. "NANA!—"

"STOP IT, JOSEPHINE! You're acting just like your father!" Phyllis pinched the bridge of her nose in an attempt to quell the on coming headache.

Stunned silence filled the room. Phyllis looked up to see Josephine's skin take on an ashen hue as her eyes rolled into the back of her head and her usually red lips drained of color. She tried to gasp or say something as her body went lip and she fainted from shock into Caspian's dexterous arms.

* * *

**Oh boy, oh boy. Sorry if its rather obvious. :) anyway, there really is a sword in Welsh legend called the Dyrnwyn, though I took a little artistic liscence with the colors of the flames, otherwise, I wanted to keep it ask close to the actually legend as possible. Also, I hope Jo's rage issues aren't too offputting. **


	7. Golden

Chapter 7

The first thing Josephine became aware of when she slowly entered consciousness, was that she was pleasantly warm. Usually, for some odd reason, her skin was about room temperature or a few degrees cooler; at the moment, she felt toasty warm. The scent of musk and leather hit her nose in a not unpleasant way, though she did wonder where, exactly, she was that she would be smelling those things. Josephine could just make out hushed voices.

"You never told her?" A soft, lyrical, yet masculine voice whispered. Hearing the accented tone brought a waves of relief washing through her, though Josephine couldn't place who's voice it was, or why she felt so comforted hearing it.

"There was no reason to." Someone hissed back. This voice was higher pitched but older. It sounded like fallen leaves rustling against water.

Josephine tried to remember the last thing that happened to her. She had punched someone, but no, then she came home and Nana had been yelling at her. Nana! That's who the second voice belonged to.

"It would have been nice if you have at least told me. It is one of those need to know pieces of information. She is Peter's heir." The first voice snapped. Josephine had never heard Caspian sound so upset. Oh, Caspian; she remembered now that that was his voice, actually, she was surprised that she had forgotten in the first place. She let her mind wander backwards, and then everything suddenly fell into place.

Her violet eyes snapped open and Josephine took in the scene around her. She was lying on the old paisley sofa wrapped snugly in Caspian's arms, her head resting on his shoulder. He was absently drawing circles just above her hip bone with his right hand. Nana was standing before them, hands on her hips, looking quite disapprovingly at her, or him, or maybe both of them; Josephine couldn't tell beyond the fact that Nana was pissed off.

Josephine suddenly found herself very angry. What right did Nana have to mad at her? She hadn't lied about who she was like Nana had, she hadn't kept important secrets from her, like Nana had. Josephine stood up so quickly she thought she would fall backwards into Caspian, but she gripped the edge of the small wooden end table for support, while the fierce headache from rising too quickly subsided.

"You lied to me! All those times I asked who my parents were; you lied!" Streaks of red crossed over her vision.

"Josephine, calm down." Nana commanded.

"NO! Tell me, or I swear, I'll never forgive you. I will shut my eyes to you and never see nor hear you again." She wasn't sure what she was saying, but the words bubbled up from a secret place deep inside her soul. She suddenly felt a warm hand on the small of her back, making her fell slightly more calm; Josephine's vision cleared and she took a deep breath.

"Sit down, Princesita. Let your grandmother...er, your aunt explain." Caspian said in a low, calming voice.

Josephine blinked rapidly and took another deep, relaxing breath. "Fine" she snapped and collapsed in an unladylike fashion onto the sofa next to Caspian, her lightening eyes dared her newly titled aunt to say something. Phyllis sat down stiffly in her chair.

Nana opened her mouth to speak. "Your parents did not die in a car crash, though your father was killed by a train collision, a train collision that killed him and the rest of my family. You were not born in England, your were born in Narnia during the Golden Age. Josephine, your father was my brother, High King Peter the Magnificent and your mother was a fallen star named Isolde."

"A fallen star?" Josephine asked incredulously. Caspian nodded.

"Remember after we watched Stardust, I told you, stars take human form in Narnia too." She nodded.

"Your mother fell from the night sky not a year before I and my siblings left Narnia by accident. She found her way to our court and my brother became completely enamored with her. I had no idea how close they were until much later. I am assuming that she gave birth to you not much longer after we left and then raised you away from court until you were about three—for there are no records of you anywhere. After that, last of her starlight faded, though before she passed to Aslan's Place, she must have found a way to push you through the veil between the worlds. When I was sixty-nine, I finally mustered up the courage to travel to the train station were my family was killed, it was difficult you know, my life changed in a terrible way in the place, and I hadn't, up to the point, be able to face that pain. While I was there, a guard overheard me say the name 'Pevensie' and he asked if that was my name, I told him yes and he said he had something I might want to see. In the employee's lounge was a small, golden child with big purple eyes of about three years old with the name "Josephine Pevensie" sewn on the inside the nightgown she was wearing. I knew in an instant who's child you had to be."

Josephine stared, mouth hanging open, at Phyllis. She closed her mouth and blinked rapidly. "You never thought that this was sort of important for me to know? All the times, when I was younger and I asked if there was something wrong with me—why the other kids didn't like me—could it have possibly been because I'm not human!?" Out of the blue, Josephine felt Caspian's large hand on hers; he squeezed her fingers gently.

"You are human, Josephine." She locked her violet eyes on his black ones, a look of almost pleading writ in them. "Stars are just like humans, only, they live longer and are far more beautiful." At his last words, Josephine felt herself blush, and she looked away, down at their hands.

Nana cleared her throat. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but really, Josephine, how did you expect me to go about it?"

She frowned and pursed her lips. "I don't know..." finally, Josephine raised her head to look at her aunt. "Well, now that the cat is out of the bag, should I just start calling you 'Aunt Susan'?"

[~*~]

Caspian paced back and forth in the hallway below the stairs in Susan's farm house. It was Saturday night—the night he had promised Josephine that he would escort her to her Ball. The day before had been a bit uneasy and quite surprising. Susan had not informed him, either, of Josephine's unconventional parentage. The fact that she was half star explained a few things—for example her iridescent skin in the moonlight, her undeniable beauty, her strange, not quite human mannerisms. But it was the fact that she was the daughter of High King Peter that was the greatest shock to him.

By decree of Aslan and the workings of the Deep Magic, she was the hereditary High Queen of Narnia—ruler, even over himself. Though Caspian hoped he knew Josephine well enough to guess that she would formally give him the authority to rule, just as her father had done. Still, Josephine had a mind of her own and a problem with authority, so Aslan knew what would happen if she ever crossed into Narnia. Probably utter chaos and pandemonium.

At the moment, Josephine and Susan were up in Jo's bedroom, making her ready for the 'Prom'. Caspian was wearing something that Susan had called a 'Tuxedo'. It basically comprised of black pants, a white, button up shirt, a black vest with a raised black floral design, a long black jacket with a deep v-neck and three black buttons, and a black 'bow tie'. He was also wearing his black boots. Caspian had even combed his hair back, though a few strands still fell in front of his eyes—unruly as ever.

He and Susan had rented—something he would never dream of doing in Narnia—this tuxedo early on Friday, before she had received the call from Josephine's school about the fight. After much sulking on Josephine's part and much apologizing on Susan's behalf the subject of finding a gown for Josephine had finally be brought up. Susan had refused to take her niece shopping because of her 'unladylike conduct'.

"But Caspian has something to wear!"

Susan frowned for a moment, then a slow smile had spread across her aged face. "You can wear my wedding dress."

"You were married?!" the surprised, incredulous look on Josephine's face had been utterly priceless. "Are you the Queen of England too? Or a witch perhaps?Is Harry Potter going to pop out of your closet?"

Susan rolled her eyes. "Josephine, sarcasm doesn't look good on anyone." Susan had then whisked her niece up the stairs and Caspian hadn't seen them since—it had been two hours.

Caspian couldn't help wounder what Josephine would look like in a wedding dress. His mind conjured images of white lace, corsets, stained glass windows and goose down bedding. He shook his head, ridding his mind of the forbidden images that had suddenly appeared there—messing his hair up even more.

He sighed inwardly and pondered why this girl was affecting him so much. She was beautiful, yes; but also funny and intelligent. Most of the women at his court, though beautiful, were only interested in sparkling jewels and gaining advantageous marriages. Josephine, though, had proved on a number of occasions that she could hold her own in a debate and knew a vast many facts about her world's literature, mythology, and culture. She reinforced his first assessment that she had the makings of a great queen.

Caspian's attention was suddenly called to the stairs again, when he heard the tell-tale sign of squeaking wood. He followed the worn, blue carpet upward with his eyes, until he reached the middle landing where the stairs made a ninety degree turn. Looking up at the woman standing before him, Caspian, King of Narnia and Telmar, lost his ability to breath for moment.

She was candle light, she was a ray of sun, she was the sun and the stars. Josephine was... "Beautiful". He whispered.

The over skirt and bodice fabric was of the most delicate gold silk brocade. Her waist was tightly cinched by, assumedly, a corset. There was a golden ribbon on her left hip at the top of a slit in the over skirt, which revealed layers upon layers of white lace. His black eyes traveled farther up to her square neckline that was lined with lace and Caspian forced himself to move his lingering gaze to the delicate three quarter length bell sleeves, edged around the cuff with the same delicate material that lined the neck. Her golden hair was piled at the back of her head in a bun and held in place with a small, gold comb. One long curl hung down in front of her shoulder, sweeping her fragile clavicle and touching the top of her bodice.

A sweet smiled broke across her face when her light eyes met his dark ones and she picked up her voluminous skirts, running down the stairs in an oddly graceful manner, only to stop a foot away from him. Josephine's smiled widened as she spun rapidly; skirts flying out, revealing her long white legs. She came to a stop, facing him. "Isn't it the most beautiful dress you've ever seen? I can't believe Auntie got married in this."

Caspian chuckled and found that Josephine was at her most radiant when she smiled like that; like the whole world was smiling with her. He took her slim, pale hand in his large, dark one and brushed his full lips over her soft knuckles. "It is quite lovely; though made more so by the lady wearing it."

A scarlet blush broke out across her face at his words and he took note of the fact that her eyes lingered over his body and face. "You don't look half bad yourself." She half teased, though Caspian could tell from her violet eyes that she meant every ounce of complement that was in her words.

"Shall we go, Princesita?" He inquired, and without waiting for a response, expertly linked her hand that he had previously been holding with his opposite arm and gave her fingers a gentle squeeze before letting go.

[~*~]

Josephine found it somewhat difficult to drive while wearing such an abundant dress; though after some experimenting she discovered the best way to do so was to pull the skirts up around her waist and across the seat. It was a slightly embarrassing position, because, after all, she was showing quite a lot of leg, but then again, the balloon of skirt hid most of that.

"So, do you know how to dance?" She inquired of Caspian, who was sitting next to her in the passenger's seat.

"Well, court dances yes. And also the dances that the Kings and Queens of Old brought with them. The Waltz, Fox Trot, Tango."

Josephine raised her pale eyebrows. "You can tango? Wow, Caspian, you're just full of surprises."

There was a small lull in the conversation before Caspian spoke again in his lyrical voice. "Susan was married? I had no idea."

Josephine smiled demurely. "Nor had I. Apparently it was before World War II, when she was really young and he died a few years later over in France."

She pulled Susan's Malibu into a parking slot about halfway back in the hotel parking lot. Before Josephine could finish shoving her keys into her small, gold purse, Caspian was on her side of the car, opening the door for her. He offered her his hand, and easily helped her slide out of the car seat. Josephine fluffed out her skirts and then smiled at him, meeting his dark, soulful eyes with her bright ones.

"Ready?"

He put on a mock serious expression and linked her arm with his. "Lead on, Princesita."

For the dance, the school had rented out a riverside ball room in the area's only four star hotel. The entrance for the room itself was on the second floor and as Josephine and Caspian were about half an hour late, they were the only people in the elevator. The look on Caspian's face when the small metallic room began to move upwards was so priceless, Josephine whipped out her digital camera and snapped his picture. Lucky for him the flash wasn't on.

"What was that?" His eyes were fixed with distrust on the slim silver box in her hand.

"Its called a camera. It takes pictures instantly." The doors slid open as the elevator made a soft 'ding'. Josephine pulled Caspian out of the small room into the marble encrusted lofted lobby. Between potted palm trees and Corinthian columns, Josephine could make out the parquet floor below and the throng of her classmates milling about in small social groups or dancing. To the left of the elevator was an elegant, wide staircase with a plush red carpet. Everything glittered with warm golden light. To her surprise, Frank Sinatra was crooning over the stereo system instead of some urban rap star.

She clasped his large hand with her small one, and looked into Caspian's face. They headed to the top of the staircase, where he stayed them for a moment. "What are you doing?" she whispered.

"Giving everyone a moment to admire you." He whispered back though his smile.

As they descended the stairs Josephine could hear people started to whisper; about who she was, her audacity to show up, who he was. Caspian lead her to the center of the floor and swung her into a slow waltz, the couples around followed suit in a less graceful manner, in the usual 'sway back and forth' slow dance style of high school.

"_Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away_

_If you can use some exotic booze_

_There's a bar in far Bombay_

_Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away."_

Caspian whirled Josephine expertly across the shiny wooden flood in perfect time with the music, stepping and twirling fast with each note; her golden skirts billowed out behind and around them. Josephine felt herself getting a bit dizzy from all the spinning, and much to her embarrassment, she stumbled slightly.

She felt his chuckled reverberate in his chest and hers seeing as they were so close their upper bodies were pressed tightly together. "Try focusing on me. It should help with dizziness." She looked up tentatively to see Caspian staring down at her, smiling.

After a moment. "So what is this dance called?" She questioned softly.

"I believe it is know as the Viennese Waltz." The song ended a moment later with another request for elopement. They stopped moving, though Caspian still held her close. Abruptly, Josephine was jostled by accident by someone in a long pink dress. She quickly stepped away from him.

After an awkward moment, Caspian spoke. "Would you like something to drink?" She nodded and they headed off to the refreshment table.

The next two hours were quite enjoyable. Caspian whirled Josephine around the parquet floor for quite a few songs. When they tired of that, Josephine found them a small grouping of overstuffed armchairs tucked away in a corner, hidden by potted plants and gold painted wooden screens. All the while, she ignored the not so surreptitious stares and whispers.

"Princesita, I know you're beautiful and especially so this night, but why does everyone in this room insist on staring at you?" Caspian asked, bemused.

Josephine felt herself blush. "Its only because I'm a social leper and as such, never show up to these things. And I usually don't wear too much makeup or do my hair for school." She framed her face with her hands for a playful moment. "And also, all the girls think you're totally gorgeous." She said pointedly.

A moment later Mr. Litz walked by, on his way to the refreshment table. He nodded at Josephine. "Evening, Miss Whitehall." Josephine nodded and waved to him. She turned back to Caspian, who was watching her cautiously.

"I though you didn't have any friends." His lyrical voice was guarded, and if Josephine didn't know better she would have said there was an edge of jealously in his voice.

Josephine laughed at his seriousness. "Oh, that's just Mr. Litz, my English teacher. He's the one that told me about your sword."

At her words the strangest expression crossed Caspian's handsome face; it was a mix between shock, elation, and anger. "What sword?" He demanded.

Confusion flitted across Josephine's exquisite face. "I thought...oh. I was going to tell you. But Nana, Susan, I mean, she sort of distracted me with...Peter, my father. I'm so sorry, it slipped my mind."

Caspian seemed to be less tense than before, but his expression was still stormy.

"So the whole time you were curling your hair, and I don't know what else, we—I, I could have been saving my kingdom?!"

"Oh Caspian..." she reached to touch his arm, but he pulled away. "I'm sorry. I didn't think of it that way..."

He stood up, towering over her. "No, you didn't think."

"Caspian!" But he was already fifteen feet away from her. "Temperamental git." She breathed to herself.

* * *

**Woo. Quite a long chappy. Lots of questions answered, drama, and Caspian fluff. I got the idea for Josephine's dress from an episode of the Tudors. Somewhere in the second season, Anne Boleyn is wearing a gorgeous golden dress. Its the episode after she threatens to chop Cromwell's head off--if anyone knows what I'm talking about. Well, I hope you like it. (Maybe enough to review?) :) Don't worry, the story is going to pick up soon. Lots of trapsing about in the wilderness and such. **


	8. Plans

Chapter 8

Caspian marched over to the refreshment table, blood boiling. He considered, for a moment, simply leaving and walking back to Susan's house. But then, that would be immeasurably rude, and somewhat cruel—he knew Josephine would worry about where he was. He scowled at the crystal cut punch bowl. Why should he care if she was worried? Josephine obviously didn't care about his worries; his fears for Narnia. His thoughts were interrupted by a feminine voice, emanating from his left.

"Had a fight with your girlfriend? That's not surprising, Josephine's so difficult."

Caspian looked down to see the brunette from the mall; Michaela. She was wearing a slinky red gown and a rather gaudy necklace. Under closer inspection, he could make out a purple bruise beneath the fake diamonds. So this was the girl Josephine punched. "More of a conflict in priorities." He murmured stiffly.

She frowned. "I don't know how any girl would ever fight with you."

Caspian raised his eyebrow, but said nothing and took a drink of punch. A new song started up in the background.

"Hey, do ya wanna dance with me?"

[~*~]

Josephine sat in her overstuffed chair for a moment, watching Caspian periodically though the swirl of people. She supposed she could have handled things better, but honestly, he could have too. It wasn't like they even knew how to get to the sword, or into Narnia. She picked at a frayed patch of fabric on the chair and idly wondered what the chance of her accompanying Caspian on his quest were. Probably better if she apologized to him. Like that would happen. Josephine refused to apologize again; she had said it once. If that wasn't good enough for him, then too bad.

She looked back at the refreshment table, but was dismayed that Caspian wasn't to be seen there. After a moment of frantically scanning the room—Susan would kill her if she 'misplaced' their guest—she located his now familiar figure on the dance floor. Josephine scratched the fabric of her chair so hard when she saw who he was dancing with, a small patch of silk came off in her hand.

"Oh. Looks like Michaela's getting her revenge for you punching her." A rather sullen voice, from the unnervingly close vicinity to Josephine's left ear, said. She quickly turned her head to see, Tony, the school's now blond Johnny Depp look alike, who had played the half mad prince in _Hamlet. _She sent him a hateful glare; Josephine had never liked the boy too much, and after playing Ophelia, she had a more solid distaste for the sulky, capricious, boy.

"What do you want?"

"See, now that's why no one likes you. You're so rough and unwelcoming." Josephine was about to give a biting retort, but she paused, studying Tony for a moment. The pale blond hair—dyed for his role as a Danish Prince—suited his lighter skin tone, and with his cupid's bow red lips, he looked quite ethereal. He had high, aristocratic cheekbones and a rather pointed chin with a well defined jawline. His eyes were an intense green.

Josephine tilted her head to the side coquettishly and looked up at him through her thick, black eyelashes with wide violet eyes. "Would you care to dance with me, Tony?"

He smiled a strange, wolfish grin, before nodding. "Sure thing, Ophelia. My grandma made me learn how to dance."

Josephine stood up and Tony led her awkwardly out to the dance floor. He placed his hand on her waist and clasped her other hand, a little too tightly, before swirling her out past Caspian and Michaela. Josephine found that Tony was more awkward on his feet than Caspian, though when he stepped on her feet she kindly pretended that she felt nothing. The dance was, at best, vaguely pleasant, though she didn't like Tony to get too close to her. Afterward she felt better when she noticed that Caspian was still scowling—though she told herself that he could be mad because of their misunderstanding and not because she had been dancing with another man. She smiled as sweetly as she could at him from across the wooden floor, though instead of giving her some sort of expression in return, Caspian simply looked away.

"So, Sweets, how about another dance?" A conceited smiled was plastered on his face.

Josephine frowned. "No thanks. I have to talk to Mr. Litz about something." She made to move away, but stopped abruptly when Tony's strong grip attached itself to her upper arm. She looked at his hand, then up at him. "Let go of me."

"No, we're going to dance again." Josephine tried to wrench her arm out of his grip, but the faux blond man was too strong.

"If you don't take your greasy hand off of my silk dress this instant I'm going too—"

"Going to what? Make a scene. Go ahead, everyone already thinks you're a spazz. They won't help you." Through her abundant skirts Josephine felt is other hand slide down to her bottom. She was about to deck him right between the eyes when all of a sudden, Tony wasn't next to her. Instead he had his head slammed down on the snack table, right between the taco dip and cheese platter. Caspian grounded the blond's head down whilst twisting the arm, that had been grasping Jo's bottom, at a painful looking angle behind Tony's back. Josephine wasn't too sure where Caspian had come from, but she was damned glad that he was next to her now.

"You should never, NEVER, touch a lady without her permission and absolutely never in an inappropriate manner. Do you understand?" Caspian hissed in Tony's ear.

"Get off me! I was just playing." Tony replied rather frantically, pain laced in his voice.

"You do not play with a lady that is so high above you, you should feel blessed that you can see the soles of her shoes."

Josephine, mindful of the stares and the advancing teachers, put her slight hand on Caspian's tense, rigid shoulder. "Caspian, its okay. Let him go." After a long moment the Narnian King relented and eased up on the younger man.

"Apologize to Josephine." He commanded, arms crossed menacingly across his well defined chest.

Tony looked at Caspian in a frightened manner, before turning his gaze to demure Josephine. He could not meet her violet eyes with his green ones. "I'm sorry Jo." He mumbled.

Josephine nodded imperiously, copying Caspian's general air. A moment later Mr. Litz and a calculus teacher, Mrs. Fischer, appeared next to them. Mr Litz spoke. "Josephine, I'm going to have to ask you and your guest to leave the dance, I'm sorry."

She nodded and gripped Caspian's bicep. Neither looked back as they marched elegantly up the stairs and out of the room. They did not speak until after she had pulled the car out of the parking lot and was a few miles down the high way.

Caspian's lyrical voice broke the silence. "So tell me about this sword."

Josephine glanced at him sideways, unsure if he was still upset. "You're not still mad?" She questioned timidly.

"Of course I'm still mad. But I need to hear this."

Josephine pursed her lips for a moment before speaking. "Its called Dyrnwyn. If you pick it up for good intentions...or maybe if you're a noble? I can't remember, either way, if you pick it up like that, the blade will blaze with purple fire. If you pick it up for bad intentions, or you're not noble...it will consume you in fire; burn you alive. Apparently, its somewhere in northern England or southern Scotland; a region called _Hen Ogledd_ or 'Old North'."

Caspian didn't respond, and when Josephine chanced a look at him, she could tell he was thinking hard about something. Finally, just before she turned into the driveway, he spoke. "Do you think it is possible to find this Dyrnwyn in your world? Or its is in a different one?"

Josephine shrugged as she parked the car in the garage and turned the key. "Ask Susan."

[~*~]

Caspian followed Josephine warily into the house; he could tell from her precocious nature that she might make trouble for him with Susan. He could tell from the quick pace and the angry swish of silk that Josephine was upset, though this revelation simply made him more distempered. He as the one that should be angry; instead of sharing vital information with him, Josephine had dragged him to some ball. Not only that but while there he had to suffer through watching her dance with that commoner.

Not that he cared who she dance with. Well, sort of, but only because she was a princess of Narnia and Telmar and shouldn't be dancing with plebeians, let alone allowing them to put their hands on her. Caspian ran a hand through his thoroughly disheveled hair and walked into the living room to see Susan frowning at him, arms crossed over her chest. Josephine was slumped over the on the sofa looking dejected.

"What happened?" Susan questioned both of them.

"Ask him!" Josephine snapped, and pointed a long white finger accusingly in Caspian's direction.

"Josephine..." Susan said, warningly.

"ME? We didn't have to go. There was still time to tell us about the sword." Caspian thundered.

"You said you'd go, because you gave your word to _Michaela._ Wouldn't want to disappoint her, would you?" Venom dripped off of Josephine's every word.

"I do not know why I even listen to you; why I even let you know what was going on."

"Because you need my help. Even if it kills you to admit it; you came to us." at these words, Josephine stood up and marched out of the room, barely hearing Caspian's next words.

"My first mistake."

Josephine whirled around at his words, and, as Caspian met her gaze, he saw rage in her eyes. "No, your first mistake was thinking you could be king." He could tell that the moment she said the words, she regretted them. Her face softened and the rage left her eyes, but her words had found their mark. Peter had said something to the same extent and it hurt more the second time. Caspian felt like her words confirmed all his self doubts and magnified all his short comings.

"Your family left Narnia, you have no right to the throne or to judge who sits on it."

"No! Your family invaded Narnia. You have no more right leading than Jadis does."

"And you think you could do better? I'd like to see you try to hold a kingdom together." He hissed. A mischievous glint flitted through her eyes; Josephine pulled herself to her full height, though she was still almost a full head shorter than him.

"Is that a challenge?"

A light cough from behind them brought their collective attentions back to the room around them and the other person present. Susan peered at them with unreadable expression on her wrinkled face. "Whats past is past. Caspian, Josephine, sit down and we'll discus this like rational adults."

Caspian stared at the older woman for a moment before slowly sitting down on the paisley sofa. Josephine perched delicately on the edge of the opposite end of the sofa, hands folded in her lap.

"Josephine, tell us about this sword." Susan ordered kindly.

Josephine sighed, but then smiled. "Its called Dyrnwyn. If you're 'good' it will blaze with purple fire. If you're 'bad' it will burn you to death. Its somewhere in northern England or southern Scotland; in place called 'Hen Ogledd' or the 'old north'. That's all I know."

Susan directed her blue gaze at Caspian. "In what ways does this information help your quest?"

"I now know of a weapon I can use. I also know where it find it, more or less. The only problem is, because it comes from myth, we cannot know if I will be able to find the sword in your land, of if we will need to gain access to the Woods Between the Worlds."He slowly felt his anger deflate with each calm word he spoke, even the sting from Josephine's barbs was dissipating.

Susan nodded. "How much time do you have left before you must meet Jadis' challenge?"

Caspian paused for a moment, contemplating how long ago the gauntlet had been thrown. "I have four and one half months, to the day."

The older woman nodded sagely. "You came to me for counsel, this is the course of action I suggest you take. Allow another week for preparation; I have a good idea of how to access the Woods Between the Worlds, either way, you will need to travel to Britain. I will obtain the necessary traveling papers—passports, tickets, money, etc—while you focus on packing items you may need. At the end of the week, you should travel to London, England; firstly, you should try to obtain a certain pair of rings which will aid you in slipping through the worlds, whether or not you will find these rings is questionable, but regardless, afterward you should travel to the region generally referred to as Hen Ogledd and search. If we are lucky, you will find the sword without need of leaving this world, or you will have the rings to partake such a journey should the need arise. Finally, you will need to return to Narnia."

The room was heavy with silence as the information sunk in. "Caspian can hardly go gallivanting around northern Britain by himself." Josephine pointed out. "He doesn't know enough about the modern world."

"Which is precisely why you will go with him."

Caspian, in a rather un-kingly moment, snorted—an action he feared he picked up from Josephine. "How do you imagine that will work when we cannot go more than a week without wanting to kill each other?"

"Josephine, close you mouth. Will all due respect, Caspian, Josephine belongs in Narnia more than she does this world. I request, on behalf my older brother, High King Peter the Magnificent, that you take her home."

The impossibility of her request filled his mind. Knowing this infuriating, infatuating girl was one thing, having her permanently reside with him was completely out of the question—he would end up strangling her. "Absolutely not."

"Why?" Josephine's soft voice suddenly chimed in. "Because I'd be High Queen? Don't look so surprised that I understand dynastic law." She snapped.

"Besides, what better an ally to have at you side when you face the White Witch but the heir of Peter the Magnificent?" Susan questioned. "Her blood is sanctioned and she anointed by Aslan. It would be fighting deep magic with deep magic."

"You're no fighter, Josephine, I could not defend you all the time." He stated dismissively, clinging to any excuse to not have come with—he didn't trust himself with her.

"You'd be surprised what sort of hobbies I pick up with nothing better to do."

Caspian decided to drop the argument for the moment; seeing as the two Pevensie women were 'ganging up' on him, as it were. "Tell me about these rings, you mentioned?"

"There are a pair of rings, that, when put on, will transport the wearer to the Woods Between the Worlds. They were made my a magician over a hundred years ago, when there still was magic in this world. My brother, Peter, died with those rings on his person; I'm assuming they should be somewhere in the train station still."

Abruptly, with a streak of gold and a swish of silk, Josephine stood up and, stretching, left the room. Caspian, in spite of his now much abated anger, called out after her. "Where are you going?"

She turned around in the doorway and fixed her eyes on him. "I'm going to bed; dancing and fighting takes a lot out of girl. Besides this will be one of the last nights I get to sleep in a nice bed for a while, seeing as we'll be traipsing about the countryside for god knows how long." And with that final declaration she turned and sashayed up the stairs.

Caspian looked at Susan, who smiled knowingly at him. "You'll regret not taking her, you know. She's already under your skin; there's really no defending your heart from her anymore."

He stood up and bowed to her, stiffly. "I don't know what you're talking about. Goodnight."

Susan watched as the King of Narnia sped off to the small guest room, and shut the door a little too hard. For a very long time that night, Caspian simply laid on his bed, thoughts tumbling around chaotically. He knew of a sword that could vanquish the White Witch, this knowledge brought him hope that he had not felt for a long time, all now he simply needed to do was retentive it and then find his way back to Narnia. They only problem was, he couldn't possibly take Josephine with him, as Susan asked. How could he take away the only family the old woman had left? How could he manage to be alone, with Josephine? Some days he all but loved her, and other days—well she was simply so naive, she'd be in over he head at court; at war. Secretly though, in the back of his mind, lodged in a corner that he himself rarely ventured in, he knew the reasons for his trepidation at bringing her. Firstly, if he brought the High Queen to Narnia and they had a disagreement, there could be an uprising to place her on the throne; and secondly, he didn't know if he could manage to be much longer in her presence without kissing her.

* * *

**Hoped you liked it. I don't really have too much to say except thanks to all the lovely people who reviewed! You guys make me feel warm and fuzzy inside. It seems like Caspian isn't mad anymore. So yay! Review? **


	9. Research Nerd Party! Woo!

Chapter 9

The next day, around nine in the mourning, Josephine was awakened yet again by the lovely smell of bacon. Slowly rolling out of bed and onto the floor, she sat up and surveyed her appearance in the mirror. Her golden hair was disheveled and falling out of the bun she had put it in before going to bed; her hair was also a bit lopsided, leaning over to the left. Her pale skin was even more so, as was usually in the morning, before she really got her circulation going with rapid movement. The violet eyes that usually sparkled were rather wide and dull. Over all Josephine looked like she had a hang over. Standing up she decided that green and silver plaid pajama pants and a purple cami were more than good enough for breakfast.

After tromping downstairs and making a B line for the bacon, she plopped down next to an equally disheveled and tired looking Caspian. Susan bustled in from parts unknown, humming to herself. "You two look like the living dead."

The only response she got was a unanimous grunt of agreement.

Josephine picked at her eggs and bacon for a while, absentmindedly. Her thoughts were elsewhere than the breakfast table. She was thinking about the question that Caspian had put to them the previous night. Would Dyrnwyn be in this world? If it wasn't that certainly would make matters a bit more complicated. But the real question would be, what world was it in? There was your obvious answers, that it was in the past version of this world. Yet, that seemed too easy. It could be in the world of King Arthur, because, after all, in some legends the weapon was connected with Merlin—but wait, her teacher had said that 'Merlin' was a figure that went back farther than just Arthurian myth. "Tir na nÓg." She exclaimed suddenly.

Both Caspian and Susan gave her quizzical looks. "Dear, are you feeling alright?" Susan questioned.

Josephine shook her head. "No, I mean, yes, I'm fine. But..." She turned to Caspian. "Your sword. If its not just sitting around the English countryside, its in Tir na nÓg: The Land of the Ever-Young." Josephine excitedly turned back to her aunt. "What do you know about the fae?"

Susan laughed. "Josephine, you know full well that there are no such thing as fae, or sidhe, or faeries. Its simply ridiculous."

Josephine gave the older woman a blank though slightly incredulous look. "Auntie, you realized that you're sitting across from a medieval king from another world right? I don't think you have the right to pass judgment over what otherworldly things are ridiculous." Susan scowled for a moment.

"Well, I guess it will be your job to research them, that way, Caspian will have another reason why he needs to take you along." Both woman turned to the only male member of the household and smiled smugly.

Caspian threw up his hands in frustration and surrendered. "Fine. Josephine, you may accompany me. But be warned, its not much fun. There will be a lot of danger, and you leave many of your modern conveniences behind."

Her smiled changed to a more warm, though still smug, grin; she patted his hand—which he hand dropped to the table with his words—reassuringly. "Who knows, Caspian, for all your worry maybe I'll save you from something."

After breakfast they all broke away to do their own specific tasks. Susan left to go obtain passports and plane tickets—though how she was going to get a passport for Caspian, Josephine couldn't figure out. Josephine, for her part, set about learning all she could about the faeries; how to contact them, fight them, dos and don'ts.

After deciding that she would tackle all the fictional 'faerie tales' on her bookshelves later, Josephine drifted back up to her bedroom and booted up the computer. After disregarding the various 'free encyclopedias', she decided simply to google, 'faerie'. It was a lot of scrolling through RPG sites, fluffy girly children's web pages, and GLBT sites, but eventually she found something that looked promising; a website called _Reason's Edge_.

"_The Fair Folk, as they like to be called, are of a capricious nature, often fickle or cruel. Some closely resemble very beautiful humans, while others are varying degrees of odd, magnificent, and grotesque. Humans should take care to avoid the fae if at all possible—as very few have any sympathy for mortal life. If you find yourself having dealings with the Fair Folk, there are a few precautions one should take. Firstly, treat them with respect; faeries are very proud. Secondly, under no circumstances should you eat or drink faerie food or wine. To do so would have dire outcomes, as myth tells us; either you will be bound to the land of Faerie forever, or you will ever more crave the fae food, and mortal food will crumble like dust in you mouth. Thirdly, they are allergic to either iron, or sometimes silver. It is most probably iron; this is the more popular of the two allergens along with the explanation that the fae have no iron in their blood. It is sometimes believed that the name of God or prayer will inflict harm on a resident of Faerie. _

_The origins of the fae race is uncertain. Some believe them to be an ancient race, forced underground millennia ago by the ever spreading human race. Others have the view that they are fallen angels or those in league with Hell—this legend is supported by the Scottish Ballard of Tam Lin, in which it is revealed that the Unseelie Court, a certain fae faction, tithes to Hell every seven years with a blood sacrifice of a talented or beautiful mortal. It should also be noted that fae are purported to be unable to lie—though this does not mean that they will not try to mask the truth and bend their words until any truth is so obscured the answer is utterly meaningless. "_

Josephine suddenly became aware of another presence in her room; she looked up to see Caspian standing awkwardly in her doorway. She raised her eyebrow at him.

"I don't have anything to do really, so Susan suggested that I help you with your research. What have you uncovered so far?" He wandered into her room farther. She motioned for him to take a seat on the bed.

"It took a while to find anything of use, but from what I've read, this Tir na nÓg does not sound like a place we want to go."

"It can not be as bad as living under the White Witch." Caspian declared.

Josephine raised her eyebrow. "One of the courts tithes to Hell with mortal blood." Caspian shrugged but didn't refute what she said. "Anyway, I have some books, fictitious modern faerie tales, but there might be something important. Try starting with _Tithe_ by Holly Black, and we'll cross reference any seemingly important information."

She stood up and walked over to her bookshelves, pulling out the mentioned book along with four or five others. She handed him the stack, careful that their hands didn't touch, before going over to her desk drawer. Josephine rummaged around for a few moments before pulling out a new notebook and pen.

Caspian, who thought better of complaining about the stack of books, resigned himself to lounging across Josephine's blue comforter, book in hand, notebook and pen nearby. Josephine settled back down to her computer, but before she could focus on the screen in front of her, her violet eyes kept drifting upwards to the man sprawled across her bed. She had to admit to herself that Caspian was handsome; and not just handsome, but he had an air of authority and power that contributed to raw sex appeal. Her misbehaving eyes traveled up his long legs—clothed in the a pair of black pinstriped pants—to his solid chest and long, muscular arms. She liked the way his caramel skin seemed to drip over his muscles and bones like satin.

He abruptly turned the page and Josephine looked back at her computer with much haste and a guilty expression on her face. She hoped he hadn't seen her staring. She continued reading.

"_To fully understand the double nature of the fae, one must look at the two ever warring courts. Seelie and Unseelie, light and dark. The Seelie, or blessed, Court, is synonymous with light, beauty, and perfection. It is very rare to see one of the more hideous of the faerie races among the Seelie Court, though the Queen has been known to take mighty warriors on to her elite guard, regardless of appearances. Elves, sidhe, and seraphs make up the aristocratic class of the Seelie court, whereas __pixies, pooka, selkies and the like make up the solitary, or plebeian classes. The Seelie Court is know to be patrons of the arts, and, (usually) benevolent to humans—sometimes even offering them aid. It is well worth knowing that the Seelie Court is just as dangerous as it is beautiful; simply because the fae are sometimes inclined to give aid to mortals, does not mean that they value human life. Be very careful in dealings with the Seelie Court, their beauty masks their true nature._

_The Unseelie Court is more outright with their nature; they are the Unblessed Court and are synonymous with darkness, ugliness, and evil. Unlike their narcissistic sister Court, the Unseelie Court welcomes any fae into their ranks. The aristocratic class is likewise made of elves, and sidhe, but also, banshee and vampires. The plebeian classes are made up of goblins, gnomes, pixies, ogres, giants, and every other imaginable horror. The Unseelie Court will also patronize gifted mortals and will give aid when forced to do so. As mentioned above, there are rumors of the Unseelie Court tithing to Hell with mortal blood, so any contact with the fae of the Unseelie Court should be limited as much as possible. _

_Both Courts are ruled over by beautiful Queens who may or may not have consorts or children—though it seems that fae children on a whole are very rare. One should note that there can be no Courts without the Queens—they are in commune with very earth and hall of their Court; they understand the deep magic and laws of their lands and without them, or without a properly informed and appointed heir, the Court and fae society would crumble into chaos."_

Josephine re-read the last sentence, something was itching at the back of her brain, but she couldn't figure out with it was. "Caspian, would you listen to this and tell me anything that sticks out to you?"

Upon hearing her voice, Caspian set her book down on his chest; he nodded. "Sure."

"_...one should note that there can be no Courts with out the Queens—they are in commune with very earth and hall of their Court; they understand the deep magic and laws of their lands and without them, or without a properly inform and appointed heir, the Court and fae society would crumble into chaos._..there's something here, but I just can't put my finger on it."

He frowned, making light lines appear on his forehead. "Did the author specifically say 'deep magic'?" She nodded, making her hair flop around in a rather amusing fashion. Caspian struggled not to laugh as he responded. "Well, 'deep magic' is a term from Narnia—it is the laws laid down by Aslan's father, the Emperor Beyond the Sea, during Time. There are laws of Deeper Magic—but those are unwritten. Even so, I'm surprised that 'deep magic' would be the basis of another realm."

"Hmmm" Josephine mused, "that's rather interesting, though not too important at the moment. Do you understand Deep Magic?"

He nodded. "Yes, I was taught it as a child; so to make myself a better king than the ones that came before me. But you should know that no human can comprehend the Deeper Magic."

Josephine pursed her lips, mulling over the implications of his words. If no human could understand the Deeper Magic, but the fae might be able too, they would both be up against powers they couldn't hope to comprehend. All she could do was hope that Deeper Magic was out of the reach of fae as well; this seemed possible, seeing as from what Susan had told her in stories, the White Witch—a creature not wholly human—didn't understand Deeper Magic either. She returned to her computer screen as Caspian returned to _Tithe_ with a sigh.

"_The Succession Rites are know only to the Queens, and perhaps the muted scholars who have had their tongues removes so they could not share the ancient and powerful lore to which they are privy too. Usurpation is nearly impossible; either the Queen—a cunning and powerful figure, well versed in magic, weaponry, and politics—must die or willing abdicate. Both of events are nearly unheard of. It seems Faerie is a place of mercurial stagnation."_

Josephine's stomach grumbled quietly and she checked the digital clock in the lower right corner of her computer screen. 12:07. "Wanna get some lunch?"

Her eyes met Caspian's from over the top of his book; she could see a smile writ in them. "I thought you would never ask."

[~*~]

As they descended the stairs to rummage around in Susan's kitchen, Caspian studied Josephine's lithe form. At the moment she was garbed in loose fitting cloth pants that had little shooting stars all over. Her deep blue, tight fitting shirt—if it could be called a shirt, sure it covered her torso, but her shoulders and arms were entirely bare save for millimeter straps holding the whole thing up—contrasted in a lovely way with her pale skin. Josephine's hair still resembled the golden halo nimbus that it had been at breakfast. He realized with sudden clarity and an annoying lack of dismay that he wasn't angry or irritated with her at all, anymore. Perhaps it was the fact that they were finally making progress on his quest—they had information on a weapon and now they were simply preparing to obtain it. He sighed; though he told himself that the first reason was why he wasn't upset anymore, he secretly knew it was because he was slowly loosing is ability to stay mad at Josephine for any length of time.

They had made their way into the kitchen and now Josephine turned to face him. "So what do you want for lunch?"

Caspian shrugged, so far both see and Susan had turned out to be excellent cooks, so he wasn't to concerned with what they decided upon. "What do you want, Princesita?"

"How about a sandwich?"

"What, exactly, is that?" he asked, one eyebrow raised.

She rolled her violet eyes at him in exasperation. "Its just meat and cheese, and whatever else, like lettuce and mayo, between two piece of bread."

And just like that, before he could say 'Jadis in a green dress', Josephine had a plate before him with turkey, some variety of white holey cheese, lettuce and a strange white sauce between two slices of oddly white bread. Josephine sat down across from him, with a plate of her own in front of her. He watched her take a bit and then hesitantly tried the 'sandwich' himself.

"This is good." He said, surprise annoyingly evident in his voice.

She smiled, and finished chewing before she spoke. "I told you, you silly King. You should just learn to believe everything I say." She declared with a surprisingly imperious voice.

He couldn't help but chuckle at her words. "Yes, but, then you'd have me believing that the sky is green and the ocean made of clouds."

She laughed; it was a warm, bell like sound that Caspian found he liked immensely. If he could spent the rest of his life getting her to make that sound, he would be a very happy man. There was a silent pause while they ate their lunch. The silence wasn't an awkward one though, at least not for Caspian; and from what he knew of Josephine, she found it relaxing to sit in someone's company but not feel the need to speak, as well. When they were both near finished, she looked up at him, her head tilted to the side.

"Caspian, how old are you?"

He was a tad surprised at the question, but was willing to answer it readily enough. "I'm twenty years of age, why do you ask?"

She blushed slightly at his words; and he couldn't help but be perplexed by her action. "I was just curious." She mumbled, before suggesting that they get back to work. Caspian concurred and they soon headed back up to her room, after putting their dirty dishes in the sink. He resigned himself back to the bed, to read a novel that he found to be an alien journey into the female mind. Josephine sat back down at her desk with a sigh.

[~*~]

"_If one finds themselves in Faerie, there are a few taboos that one should be well aware of. Firstly, the fae never give out their true names if they can avoid it. To know the name is to have power over the name bearer. Humans should avoid giving their full names to the fae as a precaution against malicious magic. Secondly, killing a faerie is verboten; this author is unclear as to whether this taboo applies to humans as well as those of faerie blood, but of course to be safe, one should never kill another creature unless it is absolutely necessary. The third taboo is an interesting one; if a mortal should happen to view a faerie ritual without being invited to do so, results could be dire. It is thought that sickness, curses, and kidnapping constitute the usually punishments for such a crime. If one takes this taboo further, it would seem that spying or espionage is the real heart of this law."_

Josephine sighed and looked over at Caspian who was, at the moment, scribing something into the notebook she gave him."What have you got so far?" she questioned.

He looked up slowly, apparently finishing his last words. "I've got a few things referenced. It seems if you leave offerings of bread in milk at night, small, solitary faeries may come to clean your house. They also appear to be bound to repay any aid that's been given to them." He studied the paper before him for a moment. "knowledge of a faerie's true name gives a person power over them. They can disguise themselves and objects with powerful magic, called a 'glamor'; there are a few references on how to dispel a glamor." Caspian paused again, but continued after his black eyes scanned the words again. "It seems they are deathly allergic to iron and breaking oaths seems to be a very serious matter. That's all I could glean, apparent from information on the social classes and such."

Josephine nodded. "That's pretty much all I got too, except this site didn't mention 'glamors'."

Both their heads turned towards her door when the sound of someone banging on the front door reached their ears from downstairs. She looked at him cautiously, unsure of what to do. He stood up, and smiled reassuringly. Josephine felt better after seeing him smile; it made her feel like the noise was nothing but Susan accidentally locked out of the house.

She made her way quickly to the front door, Caspian just a step behind her. Josephine opened the door hesitantly to see Sheriff Burns of the police force on her front step. She eyed him suspiciously for a moment. "Can I help you, Sheriff?"

"You are Josephine Whitehall, yes?" She nodded, cautiously. "I need to speak with you, may I come in?" She could see Caspian out of the corner of her eye, he was eying the police officer critically. Josephine got the distinct impression that he was sizing the older man up.

Hesitantly, Josephine opened the door wider and stepped aside, she felt comforted by the fact that Caspian's large, warm hand entwined itself with her's. She had a bad feeling about the sheriff's visit.

* * *

**Can I just say I felt like such a nerd writing this? But in a good way. It was like in _Songwalker_ when I gave a quick lesson on early Russian history. :) Anyway, hoped you liked it. I wrote most of that stuff about fae from memory, and the other stuff I looked on a D&D site and my encyclopdia of Magical Creatures. Wow; I think I deserve a nerd crown for that. Anyhoo, sorry if all Faerie 101 stuff was a bit boring, but that was the point. Josephine's stuck researching stuff, and I want to communicate her feelings, so there you go. I promise most of this stuff is relavant. 3 review?**


	10. Change of Plans

**Hello there, loves. This one's a bit shorter than then last few (though its still over 2500 words so we're good) but what it lack in length hopefully it makes up in content. I think you all will be super happy with this post (hopefully.) And that's all I'm sayin'. I want to thank all the lovely people who reviewed my last chapter (and who have reviewed other previous chapters too!) you guys are awesome. I live off of reviews; eat them like chocolate chip muffins. :D Read on! **

Chapter 10

Josephine showed Sheriff Burns into the living room and motioned for him to be seated in the blue armchair next to Susan's chair. "Can I get you anything to drink? We have coke, Earl Gray..." _antifreeze _she thought venomously; maybe she was being a little harsh, but the police in her town were of the bumbling sort who usually mucked things up more than make them better. Also when she had been ten, this particular officer—who at the time wasn't sheriff—had falsely accused her of stealing a "Buncha Crunch" bar from the local grocery store. Childhood scars are unforgivable.

"No thank you. Please have a seat, girl." Josephine tried not to let her irritation at being called 'girl' show; the reassuring squeeze Caspian gave to her hand helped. They both sat on the sofa, across from the Sheriff—who was eying Caspian in the same suspicious manner that Caspian was looking at him. "And who are you, young man?"

"I am Caspian, Telmar. I'm an exchange student...at the university." He said stumbling a bit over the identity Josephine had previous invented for him.

Sheriff Burns frowned at their clasped hands. "How old are you, Caspian?"

"I have twenty years, sir, is there a problem with that?" He narrowed his near black eyes at the older man across from him. Josephine squeezed his hand in a waring; he may be used to being treated like the King he was back in Narnia, but here, he had better watch himself around those with more power. Josephine became suddenly aware of certain laws that dealt with words such as 'age of consent'; not that she and Caspian were doing anything—or even thinking of doing anything—that would violate those laws, still the way Sheriff Burns was looking at Caspian made her nervous.

"Of course not, as long as theirs nothing...ah intimate going on between you two." The officer shook his head and smiled; Josephine struggled to keep her cheeks from flaming red with embarrassment as images of an intimate nature flashed through her mind. She could almost feel Caspian's blood pressure and anger level rising at the man's suggestion.

"No worries, Sheriff, Caspian is very old fashioned. Anyway, what did you want to speak to me about?" she said tersely.

"Yes well, gotta keep doing my duty. Anyway, you're classmates with a Miss Michaela Carmichael, is that correct?"

At his question, Josephine felt herself relax; the little voice at the back of her head that had been telling her Susan was hurt or worse was silenced. "Yes, we both attend the same school, and we're in the same grade..."

"I'm here today, because she's filed charges of assault and battery against you. Is there anything you would like to say for yourself?" His last question came off like a grandfather admonishing a favored grandchild. Josephine knew enough about law to know that she shouldn't answer any of his questions with out either her aunt or a lawyer present.

"I believe that is it illegal to question a minor without their guardian's presence, or at least, their guardian's knowledge of the said questioning. I have nothing to say to you until my, ah, grandmother returns from her errands."

The old man's eyes narrowed slightly. "Where did you learn so much about law, young lady?"

Josephine smiled snidely. "Shouldn't a well educated citizen have some basic understanding of the law, or, leastways the laws that pertain to them?"

"Yes, well, went is your grandma fixing to be home?"

"I don't know, she's running errands, it could take all day." Josephine smiled innocently.

[~*~]

Eventually the Sheriff left, though not after insistence that Josephine call immediately when 'Phyllis' returned home, and a stern guilt inspiring stare in Caspian's direction. He and Josephine then stood around awkwardly in the hallway for a good two minutes; all the while Caspian became acutely aware of both the sound of his heart beat and the sound of her's. His depth-less black eyes traveled over Josephine's luminescent skin; he took an involuntary step closer to the soft, beautiful creature in front of him. She looked up suddenly, startled by his abrupt movement. Her strange purple eyes locked on his as he saw and felt her inhale sharply.

He wanted to touch the soft skin of her cheek so badly it almost hurt. Caspian decided in that moment to stop fighting himself on the issue; Josephine was special to him, precious even. He needed to be around her like fish needed to be around water. For one moment Caspian X stopped caring about his kingdom, the White Witch or his life; he simply concentrated the whole ordeal of _being _on this one, frail, star-girl. His calloused fingers, on their own accord, reached out slowly and, gently as he could, stroked the light infused flesh of her cheek, then down—grazing her ear lob—to brush across the silk of her jawline. "Josephine..." He breathed. Her rose-stained lips trembled as her lilac colored eyes probed his black irises for answers. She unconsciously leaned her face into his touch.

They were but a few inches away; he could smell her rose and sunlight scent radiating off her skin. Caspian could hear her heart bet speeding up as he felt his do the same. He knew his thoughts were madness; there could be so many problems, complications, from what he was about to do. Caspian realized he simply didn't care—he hadn't for a while, though he couldn't pinpoint the exact moment when is attitude has changed.. He bent his head down toward her sweet face, hesitating millimeters away from her parted lips. His fingers were now resting against the hard bone of her jaw and the soft skin of her neck. Josephine had closed her eyes in anticipation.

With the swift determination that which only fools and hero posses, Caspian gently pressed his full lips to Josephine's velvet mouth. He instinctively wrapped his other arm around her slight waist; protectively pulling her ever so slightly closer to him. She moved willingly, closing the gap between their bodies; her long fingered hands resting against his biceps. Time seemed to crystallize, freezing the perfect moment.

Which was perfectly ruined a moment later when the loud sound of the kitchen door banging open and closed startled them. Josephine jumped away, guilt strewn over her lovely face. Her fingers fluttered to her lips as she looked at him cautiously; a strange emotion was written in her eyes. Nothing but the sound of their breathing and Susan rummaging around noisily in the other room could be heard. He knew he should say something, but he couldn't find his voice; or the right words. "Princesita..."

[~*~]

"Josephine! Caspian! I'm back...oh!" Susan shouted, seemingly towards the upstairs, as she finally made her appearance into the hallway. "Sorry didn't mean to shout in your ears. I thought you were still upstairs." She smiled apologetically. "Well, why are we all standing around in the hallway? Lets go to the living room, we've lots to talk about."

The older woman went about herding the younger two into the aforementioned living room, all the while shooting perplexed and concerned glances in Josephine's direction; the way those two had been standing and looking at each other when she came in made Susan wonder if their had been another fight. When everyone was finally settled—she in her usual chair, Caspian in the green chair, and Josephine awkwardly perched in the middle of the white a blue sofa—Susan got down to business. "So, what have you learned about the fae since I was gone?"

Josephine grimaced. "Auntie, there's something else you should know before we got on to that." She glanced quickly in Caspian's direction, but continued. "Sheriff Burns showed up a while ago, apparently Michaela filed charges."

Susan frowned, mulling over what her niece had told her. "Well that certainly throws our plans off kilter. I guess, Josephine, you need to decide if you want to wait out all the red tape and possibly a trial before disembarking, or if you'd rather flee." She could tell from the look on the girl's face that Josephine wasn't sure if Susan was serious or not. The younger girl glanced again in Caspian's direction.

"Well, I don't think Caspian can wait..so, how does one go about fleeing charges?"

Susan smiled. "Its a good thing I got both of you fake passports and I. D.s." Josephine raised her eyebrow. "Don't look so surprised, a student of mine got expelled from one of his high schools for making fake identifications, I promised to pass him if he made them for me; they should be done tomorrow. I will also purchased airline tickets for both of you under those names. I think with this new development you two had better leave as soon as possible, tomorrow if we've lucky. But for now, I believe we can put off calling the good sheriff until tomorrow."

Susan quickly assigned them tasks to do; she told Caspian to decide what clothes he wanted to take—she gave him one of Josephine's old school bags. Josephine was given the task of packing for herself and the random items that they both might need, such as first aid.

[~*~]

While her aunt was giving orders, Josephine was still in a bit of a daze, it wasn't until the older woman strode off into the kitchen to make dinner and other provisions for the trip that Josephine became aware of her surroundings fully. As she walked up the stairs her thoughts swirled around her head like a golden hurricane. _He kissed me! Caspian, King of Narnia and Telmar, total stud muffin, kissed me! And it was a great kiss too. Wow. Ack! He looked worried after he did it, what if he regrets kissing me? What if I had bad breath, or worse, what if I'm a bad kisser?!_

Josephine was so preoccupied with her thoughts that she forgot to turn on the mid landing on the stairs and instead walked straight into the wall. With an alarming thud, her forehead smacked into the cream colored surface; she stumbled backwards, her sock clad foot slipping on the lip of the top step. Josephine windmilled her arms around wildly, trying to keep her balance. Despite that she quickly fell backwards, just managing to catch the banister, which, unfortunately, did not slow her progress down the stairs, instead, Josephine's body was jerked to the left and there was a sickening crack as her upper back made contact with the hard wood. With surprise—and a scream—she accidentally let go of the banister and tumbled down the rest of the flight, landing in a heap at the floor, hitting her head in the process.

Red stripes washed over her vision as she heard two sets of shoes—one sounding like heavy boots and the other, a softer, trainer—come running into the hallway.

"Josephine!" That must be Caspian, Josephine would recognize the lyrical lit to his voice anywhere.

"Did you fall down the stairs again?" That sardonic request had to be Susan.

"Grawggah..." Josephine tried to sit up, but something stronger than she held her down. She closed her eyes for a moment then slowly reopened them, hoping the red had cleared from her vision—it had. Josephine saw that Caspian's hand was resting on her shoulder, keeping her from sitting. He was crouched down next to her, a concerned look on his handsome face. Susan was standing above them, also looking worried. Josephine tired to sit up again, this time Caspian allowed her to do so. She tenderly felt around her head, making sure there was no blood. "I think I'm okay, and yeah, I fell down the stairs again."

Susan glanced at the staircase. "There's a crack in my banister!" She exclaimed in alarm. Josephine grimaced—both at the high pitched noise and the fact that she broke the wood with her spine.

"At least it is not a crack in her spine." Caspian murmured, echoing Josephine's thoughts from the moment ago. Her heart gave a flutter when he moved his arm so it was around both her shoulders.

Eventually, Caspian helped her to stand up and Susan made him walk with her up the stairs. She also charged Caspian with doing the 'heavy lifting' while Josephine packed.

"This is utterly ridiculous. I am perfectly fine!" Not to mention she felt like a fool for needing help walking up the stairs. Not that she needed the help, but Susan thought she did. Caspian chuckled at her antics.

"Don't worry Princesita, its my job to help damsel in distress." He said, half joking. She simply scowled in reply.

Once she was in her room, Josephine turned to face him. Caspian was learning against the closed door, arms crossed over his broad chest. His black gaze fell heavily on her, and Josephine found herself blushing. She turned away and sat on her bed. "Can I ask you something?" She didn't dare look up at him.

"Of course." His ever lyrical voice was gentle. She couldn't help but turn her violet gaze to him.

"Do you _like _me?" The stupidity of her question dawned on her the moment after she asked, she fought the blush that rose quickly to her pale cheeks, she refused to lower her gaze.

He smiled softly. "I believe I do." He slowly move to sit on the bed next to her, and Josephine couldn't help but smile—to herself and at him.

"That's good, because I like you too." She murmured. She looked down to see his hand was but a hair's breath away from her own.

"May I court you?" The oddness of his words confused her for a moment, Josephine glanced up quickly, tilting her head to the side, a quizzical look on her pretty face.

"You know, most boys would just ask if I wanted to be their girlfriend."

He grinned at her words. "I am not most boys." She couldn't help but giggle at his words. "So may I?" He pressed.

Josephine stifled her laughter and smoothed her face into a look of seriousness. "You may, but..." she paused, feeling a bit silly.

"but..." he prompted. She smiled.

"But, ah...take it slow?" She felt ridiculous; most girls, in her position, would have already been half naked on the bed with him, though the little voice in the back of her head comforted her with two thoughts, firstly, Caspian wasn't with those girls, he was with her, and secondly, she was sure he wasn't that kind of guy. As she had told the Sheriff earlier, Caspian was a old fashioned by this world's standards.

He leaned towards her, kissing her forehead. "As you wish, mi Princesita." He winked at her when he invoked the reference.

She couldn't help but tease him. "I though you said Wesley was an idiot?" Josephine put a mock disapproving look on her face.

Caspian laughed quietly. "He had a few things right, and besides, I am taking your advice."

They talked for a few more minutes before getting to work on packing. Josephine refused to let Caspian do anything besides get her massive hiker's backpack down from the top shelf of her storage closet. It didn't take very long, all she decided to take was two sweatshirts, a pair of jeans, two long sleeved shirts—one black with an Asian design on the front and sleeves, and the other white with a peace collage—, she packed the first aid kit, a few toiletries, and all of her fake gold costume jewelry.

"What's that for?" He questioned, pointing to the lock box containing the necklaces and such.

"Well, if we go to Tir na nÓg, I figure we'll need something of value to trade, and hopefully they don't notice its not read gold."

She also threw in the books on fae that neither of them had gotten to. "I guess that's everything."

Before either Caspian or Josephine could speak again, they heard Susan's voice from downstairs. "DINNER TIME!"

[~*~]

As they made their way downstairs, Caspian couldn't help smiling to himself. Kissing Josephine earlier had been wonderful and he was glad that he had done it, because, now he knew that she felt the same way about him as he did her. He knew, at the back of his mind that things could get very complicated and messy, but at the moment he really didn't care. Besides, Josephine belonged in Narnia; if there was nothing he could do to keep her away he might as well stop trying.

As they stepped into the hallway, Caspian captured Josephine's small hand in his larger one, a smile still on his lips.

* * *

**Bahaha. You all thought I was going to kill off Susan, didn't you? Well, I'm not _that_ mean. Anyway CASPIAN AND JOSEPHINE SNOGGED! WOO! *does happy dance* haha I've been waiting to tell people that. I hope you liked it. Review?**


	11. Questions!

**This was actually 8.5 pages in Word, though you'll see why when you read down farther. Also, all of you who review are the loveliest people on earth! 3 Read on!**

Chapter 10

Josephine surveyed the false passports with skepticism; Susan had handed it to her a moment before, which surprised Josephine—she would have thought the false documents wouldn't have been read until later in the afternoon. "Katherine and Henry King? That's not obviously fake or anything. Did this idiot know we're going to England?!"

Susan looked at her sternly. "Just be thankful you have them at all."

"You know we can't pass for siblings..." Josephine stated slowly, confused at her aunt's oversight.

"Well that's why you'll just have to pretend to be newlyweds."

"Who are newly wedded?" Caspian asked, as he sauntered into the kitchen, where the two Pevensie women stood, bickering. He moved to stand behind Josephine, looking over her shoulder at the identification documents on the table. Josephine couldn't help but enjoy being so close to him. She was a bit annoyed with her the way she was acting though; all silly like a thirteen year old with backstage passes to a Jonas Brother's concert.

"You and Josephine. Well, not really, but you'll have to pretend because its impossibly to pass her off as your sister. You are Henry King and she is your new wife, Katherine. You are on your honeymoon to England."

Josephine shook her head dramatically. "Yes, and when we get to Customs, they're going to ask if I was married to his brother Arthur. This isn't going to work."

"But I don't have a brother..." at the confusion in his voice, Josephine turned to look at Caspian—in the back of her mind she wondered in Susan noticed how close they were and how neither he nor she seemed to mind the closeness.

"There was a really famous English King named Henry VIII, he had six wives—well not at the same time, but consecutively—three were named Katherine, two were named Anne, and one was named Jane. His first wife, a Spanish princess by the name of Katherine of Aragon, was married to his older brother, Arthur. But Arthur died like six months into their marriage, and Henry's father didn't want to give up her dowry, so he had Katherine marry Henry. And anyway, I think it's going to be a weird if we show up to England with those names."

Caspian nodded in understanding, and he looked as if he were about to speak when Susan said something instead. "I've also bought your plane tickets; Nine p.m. from Milwaukee, you have a flight change O'Hare in Chicago and another one at JFK in New York then its a straight flight all the way to Heathrow in London. So, if you have any last minute packing," Susan paused and looked direction at Josephine, "I suggest you get it out of the way."

"I guess there's a few more things I could add." Josephine mused. Caspian looked a bit concerned.

"But you already added five shirts, two skirts, another pair of jeans and more books."

Eventually, after much light arguing, Josephine managed to drag Caspian up to her room. They had already decided to put both her's and Caspian's clothes and such into Josephine's massive red and purple hiker backpack, while they would use the smaller bag for their carry-on—in which they had money, food, first aid, a change of clothes for each and a few books. Josephine surveyed the half full case, that was resting on the bench at the foot of her bed, with all their clothes. Caspian was sitting in her desk chair, looking at her bookshelves.

"You do realize, Princesita, that there are clothes readily available in England, yes?"

Josephine rolled her violet eyes at the wall. "I like being prepared." She threw her purple iPod, a stack of movies and a shiny black portable DVD player into the carry-on bag. After pausing a moment she added an arm load of wall chargers and adapters.

Caspian studied the book titles closer. "What's _The Importance of Being Ernest _about?" He asked suddenly. Josephine looked over her shoulder at him; she was struck by how handsome he looked even in such an ordinary setting. His broad shoulders were framed nicely by the ends of the shelf he was standing before. Caspian was taller than anybody that had ever been in her room and he seemed even bigger because of that fact. The late afternoon sun made his dark hair a complex weave of blacks, browns, auburns, and reds. She couldn't believe a man as handsome as he wanted to date a girl as average as her.

"Its a satire of rigid societies. Its actually really funny, you should read it." Josephine turned back to her dresser and grabbed a light weight, see through aqua colored cotton tunic with beautiful silver embroidery around the keyhole neckline, cuffs, and bottom of the shirt. She tossed it into the bigger bag along with a few neutral colored camis.

Josephine turned back to the dresser, but suddenly, somehow, Caspian was between her and the piece of furniture; arms folded over his chest. "That's enough clothes, Querida. I know I'm going to be the one carrying it."

"But, I need to add my blue dress!" Josephine made a quick dash pass his towering frame to try and nab her dress from behind him. Caspian quickly hooked his arm around her waist and spun them, so Josephine ended up facing her bed. "Caspian!" she reprimanded sharply.

"Yes, Princesita? Is there something the matter?" he righted them, but kept a firm hold on her waist.

She stamped her foot. "Let me at my clothes."

Caspian burst out in deep laughter. "Did you really just stamp your foot. I thought only young girls did that. And no, I do not think that I will." She frowned.

Josephine struggled for a moment until they were distracted by Susan shouting up the stairs. "You had better be leaving for the airport soon, you have to drive all the way down to Milwaukee." While Caspian was suitably unaware of her movements, Josephine swiftly broke out of his hold and dashed over to her dresser. In one swift gesture, she grabbed the dress she wanted and deposited it into the bag. Josephine zipped it up and smiled at a slight baffled and amused Caspian.

"Well, grab the bag and lets go."

[~*~]

Josephine sat in her newly fixed car, driving down the interstate highway. Caspian was seated next to her, watching with an amused expression on his handsome face as she sang along to the radio. "_Check yes Juliet, are you with me? Rain keeps falling down on the sidewalk. I won't go until you come outside. Check yes Juliet, kill the limbo. I'll keep tossing rock at you window. There's not turning back for us to night.."_

"What are all these reference to 'Juliet' about? I though I saw at least three books in your room with her name on them."

"Hm?" She took her eyes off the road for a moment to glace at him. "Oh its from this really famous play by the same man who wrote _Hamlet_ about a couple, Romeo and Juliet. Their families were warring with each other, but Romeo and Juliet fall in love and get married in secret."

"So it has a happy ending?" Caspian questioned, trying to understand why this play was so famous.

"Ah, no. They end up killing themselves and everything goes to hell. But there's finally peace between the families..." She finished lamely.

Caspian raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Why is it so famous if the ending is not good?"

Josephine pursed her lips, thinking about everything her English teachers had told her about the bittersweet play. "I think because its the loftiest expression of love in this world. I remember reading some essay on it how Juliet was the pure embodiment of love. I dunno, I think humans are captivated by fleeting things, because in the end, that's that our lives were; just a sigh of the earth." She shrugged and turned her attention back to the road.

"Hey, before in my room, you called me something in Telmarine..._key-air-da?_ What does that mean?"

Caspian chuckled. "It means 'darling'."

"Oh." She couldn't help show the blush that rose to her cheeks, nor the satisfaction in her smile at his words.

They drove for about a half an hour in silence besides the constant sound her iPod, which Josephine had rigged up to the radio. Caspian seemed lost in his own thoughts, and for her part Josephine was mulling over some pretty deep pondering herself. She was thinking about her parents. For the first time in her life Josephine knew who they were—she even knew a substantial amount of information about her father's life. She absently wondered if she could ever go to Aslan's Place and meet him; she wondered if that would be a bit awkward seeing as Peter died when he was in his early twenties.

Thinking about her mother, the star named Isolde, brought different questions to mind. Josephine wondered what about her was different from a 'normal' human, given that her mother was not a human. She wondered why her mother fell form the heavens to live on earth—was it some sort of personal failure, was it an accident, was it fate? Josephine had read in a Neil Gaiman novel that stars were the daughters of the moon; she had also read that the fae folk were children of the moon. She wanted to know if perhaps she would find more of her mother's kind among the faeries if her and Caspian's travels came to that. Josephine didn't hold much hope for meeting other stars, but perhaps she would meet some being that could tell her more about her mother's people and their culture. She wondered if the fae would treat her less like a mortal and more like their own; perhaps they could tell that she wasn't fully human. Of course, after reading all about their culture, she wasn't so sure being treated as one of their own would be the best thing.

She was getting tired of her dark thoughts, so to break the silence she glanced and Caspian and spoke. "Let's play a game!"

He looked a little worried. "But you are driving."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Don't be so worried. Its a simple word game, I can keep both hands on the steering wheel. I promise."

He shifted in his seat and turned the volume on the radio down. "Okay, how do we play."

Josephine grinned. "Its called twenty questions. If it were my turn I'd say 'person, place, or thing' and you would choose one of the categories and I would think of either a person, a place or a thing, depending on what you said. Then you'd have twenty yes or no questions to guess what I'm thinking about."

"Seems easy enough, would you like to go first?"

She nodded. "Person, place, or thing?"

Caspian was silent for a moment as he thought. "Person."

It was Josephine's turn to be silent as she tried to think of a person that a) they both knew of and b) wouldn't be totally obvious. "Okay."

"Is it a man?"

"Yes."

"human?"

"Yes."

"Narnian?"

"Sort of?"

"You can't be sort of Narnian." Caspian chided.

"Of course you can. Especially if you're a human." Josephine contradicted.

"Do we both know of him?"

"Obviously."

"King Peter?"

"Nope."

"King Edmund?"

"No"

"Is he a king?"

"Yes."

"King Frank?"

"Which one?"

"Are you thinking of King Frank I?"

"Ding ding ding, we have a winner. Yup. Now its your turn." Josephine smiled as she spoke; this was her absolute favorite long car ride game.

"Person, place, or thing?" Caspian asked.

"Thing." Josephine chose quickly. Thing was her least favorite of the categories, but she figured it would be the one that they both had the most knowledge of.

"I have it."

Josephine thought hard for a moment, trying to get inside the mind of a twenty year old Narnian King. "Is is a weapon of sorts?"

She saw Caspian scowl out of the corner of her eye. "Yes." He said, in a slightly sullen voice.

"Is it a sword?"

"Yes."

"Is it my father's sword?"

"No."

"Is it your sword?"

"Not as such."

"Is it Drynwyn?"

"Yes, how did you figure that out so fast?" He ask, incredulously.

"I'm really good at putting myself in others' minds and figuring out what they might be thinking. Also I'm just epic at this game." She gave him a half apologetic half snarky smile.

The rest of the three hour car drive south continued in rather the same manner. Josephine made Caspian play the alphabet game, the game a questions—where they could only speak in questions—, and a nonalcoholic version of 'I never'. All the while Josephine drove with one hand on the steering wheel and the other firmly held in Caspian's warm hand. Caspian turned out to be really good at the alphabet game; Josephine chalked it up to having to have sharp eye sight in order to lead armies and look battles and what have you. Josephine was obviously better at twenty questions and they were both equally skilled at speaking in only questions.

"So, how have you been?" She started.

"How have you been?"

"Didn't I just say that?"

"Did you?"

"Weren't you listening?"

"Do I ever listen?"

"Don't you?"

"Shouldn't you be able to tell me?"

"Why should I know?"

"Why shouldn't you know?"

"Don't you know how much wood could a wood chuck, chuck if a would chuck could chuck wood?"

"What?"

"Didn't you hear me?"

"Again, do I ever hear you?

"You damn well better! CRAP!" She stuck her tongue out at him in defeat while he attempted to get his laughter under control before she consciously drove his side of car off the road.

Surprisingly they arrived at the Milwaukee airport in one piece without so much as a scratch on the car. The check in went smoothly, though Josephine was nervous about the fake identifications, as this was their first test. Once she was buckled into her plane seat though, she relaxed, and settled back into her one of her head phones as Caspian shared the other.

The lay over at O'Hare in Chicago wasn't really all that long once they factored in the fact that getting from the gate they landed at and the gate where their next flight left form was on the other side of the building. It took them nearly an hour to get through the crowds and by that time they only had a half an hour to wait before the plane was boreded.

The flight to New York would last about four hours and seeing as neither her nor Caspian were tired—too much excitement and Coca-cola—Josephine pulled out the DVD player and announced that they would watch the 'extended version of _The Lord of the Rings: the Fellowship of the Ring_"

Caspian, for his part, looked rather intrigued. "What is that?"

"Its this massive epic story about people who go on a quest to save their world. Its super specially awesome." She grinned during her last sentence, trying to impart the shear coolness of the movies.

"Well I suppose. You said this flight would take four hours?" He questioned rhetorically. "How long is this movie?"

She smiled mischievously. "About four hours."

[~*~]

Caspian actually found himself enjoying this ridiculously long "_Lord of the Rings_" film a lot more than the other films Josephine had made him watch—perhaps it was all the killing. He and Josephine stayed up the whole flight watching the oddly creepy wide eyed 'hobbit', Frodo, run around in the wilderness with various males of different races. Caspian found himself absentmindedly running his fingers up and down Josephine's soft, white arms; drawing swirls and other shapes with his finger tip. She seemed to find it relaxing. Most of the other passengers on the plane were sleeping, or trying to sleep, so Caspian felt as if he and Jo were in their own little bubble. He was glad that she allowed him to court her; especially seeing as they now had to pretend to be newly married. Near the end of the film—and the flight—Josephine's head began to droop and she tentatively rested it on his broad shoulder. Caspian slipped his arm around her shoulders and hugged her close.

Around thee thirty in the morning they arrived in the largest city Caspian had ever seen, called New York. It had massive towers of steal and twisted snarls of roads as far as the eye could see—though admittedly at three in the morning the eye couldn't see too far in the darkness.

"So, we have to wait till six before out next flight boards. Do you want to get something to eat?" His 'new wife' questioned tiredly.

"Sure, are there food venders here?" To answer his question, Josephine simply laughed and, grabbing his hand, lead him off in some direction, following signs that only she seemed to be able to discern.

After walking for nearly fifteen minutes, they suddenly rounded a corner and happened upon a massive, glittering plaza of glass and steal with shops lining all sides. There were clothing shops, book shops, restaurants, shops of nicknacks, posters, music, movies, a shop for only soap and perfume.

"There seems to be a market inside your airport." Josephine smiled at his amazement.

"Yeah, I guess the 'new thing' is to have a mall inside the airport so people have something to do while they wait for their next flight. Anyway, where do you want to eat?" She entwined her fingers with his.

Caspian surveyed the many food seller stalls. "How about, _Rocky Rococo_?"

She ordered him two slices of something called 'pepperoni pizza'--which turned out to be some sort of flat bread with melted cheese and thinly sliced sausages on top—, a massive bottle of the sickly sweet liquid that seemed to burn his throat, called 'coke', a small canister of 'bread sticks' and a chocolate chip cookie. For herself, Josephine ordered a small plate of noodles smothered in white sauce, bread sticks, another bottle of 'coke' and a cookie.

They sat down near a window while they ate; looking out at the bustling city below. Caspian enticed Josephine into a discussion about Narnia by asking her what she thought of the clothes from _Lord of the Ring_ and how it was similar to that of Narnian fashion. This stemmed into a discussion about how in her world, people seemed to wear less clothing, to which he thought meant morals were more lax. She pointed out that, while that was true, it wasn't necessarily linked.

Eventually Josephine glanced at a clock. "We'd better get to the gate before we miss our flight. It's five thirty already." Her words set them off at a mad dash across the massive building complex, chocked with traffic at the early hour. They managed to arrive five minutes before boarding call.

Caspian decided that the British Air flight was much more comfortable,and more spacious that their previous flights. Though maybe that had something to do with the fact that Susan had booked them in the 'first class'. Regardless, Caspian settled into his comfortable chair, Josephine's head resting on his shoulder, and pressed the little silver button on her DVD player that was marked 'play'.

Quickly he pressed is lips to Josephine's forehead, then down to her lips for a soft, swift kiss, before leaning back to watch the broken Fellowship take on the second part of their various quests. Outside of his window, the sun was rising. Caspian was looking forward to arriving in England, they would be that much closer to finishing his quest, and that much closer to bringing Josephine home to Narnia.

* * *

**So I got the idea of the 'question game' from the book _Rosencratz and Guildenstern Are Dead_. Which is marvelously wonderful. Honestly, go watch a Hamlet movie then read that book. Also that thing about Juliet being love personified is in some Harold Bloom essay on the play--I read it once, I just can't remember the exact quotation. Well, I hope you liked Chapter 11, all the fluff, the history lesson (Yay Henry VIII. Even bigger YAY for Katherine of Aragon!!!), and all the Lord of the Rings! WOO! Review? **


	12. Satan in a Sunday Hat

**Here's Chapter 12, sorry If I mislabeled Chapter 11 last time, I only just noticed it. Anyhoo I hope you like it, theres some plot development, romance, and nerdyness (on my part). Read on!**

Chapter 12

Josephine and Caspian reached the small Inn, where Susan had booked them rooms for the week, around nine at night—to which Caspian was mightily confused until Josephine explained time zones.

"So you see, back in Wisconsin, its only three in the afternoon, but because England is six time zones ahead of Wisconsin, it's nine at night."

Caspian nodded, indicating that he understood. They were standing quietly in a cozy red reception room, waiting for the owner—who had popped her snowy white head out of the back room and indicated that she would be but a moment—to reappear. From the outside, the Inn had looked a bit formidable; it was an all stone, box shaped building with towers going a floor higher on either end. Josephine wasn't sure if the building was an actual historic landmark, or just something erected perhaps a few decades ago to slate tourist thirst for all things 'Ye Olde Englande'. Either way, here they were, standing at the front desk, Josephine had their passports and crisp stack of ten pound notes in her hand. A few seconds later and a stately older woman in a tartan dress, her long white hair flowing down her back, walked out of the back room and smiled at the young people.

"May I have your names please?"

Josephine smiled. "I'm Katherine and this is my new husband," she made sure to smile extra wide when saying 'new husband', "Henry King. I believe we have a room booked for the rest of the week."

The woman's smiled widened. "Katherine and Henry King? How charming; I'm sure you're glad you don't have an older brother, young man." Caspian smiled politely and nodded, though didn't say anything. Josephine forced a grin and decided if she ever saw Susan again the words 'I told you so.' would be out of her mouth faster than lightening.

The old woman consulted a surprisingly modern computer monitor for a moment. "Well, how odd, it seems that you are booked for a double bedded room. That simply won't do will it? No, goodness me, I'll upgrade you for free to our Honeymoon Suite."

Josephine glanced at Caspian surreptitiously, and mentally gulped. Honeymoon Suites were meant for newlyweds. Newlyweds liked to screw; ergo, one bed. She and Caspian had just been put in a one bed hotel room by an old lady who probably thought they couldn't wait to get naked with each other. And, while Josephine was might curious about what Caspian looked like naked—she imagined he looked quite good—she was way to nervous and self-conscious to find out anytime soon.

After realizing what she was thinking about, a blush rose unbidden to her cheeks and she struggled in vain to keep it down.

"I'll just need to see a form of identification for both of you and half the fee in advanced—which comes out to one hundred and fifty pounds." Josephine readily handed over what the woman asked for—idly wondering how Susan had gotten a picture of Caspian for their anonymous fake document supplier. A moment later the woman—who had earlier introduced herself as 'Helen'—handed Caspian a shiny gold key.

"Your room is on the top floor, at the end of the hall. Have a pleasant night." And before Josephine could ask about room service, Helen slipped through the black wooden door. She looked at Caspian who was staring at the key in his hand.

"Maybe I'm being too 'old fashioned' as you say, but what that old woman strangely excited about that fact that it's supposedly our wedding night?"

Josephine wasn't sure if she should laugh or be even more unnerved. "No, I definitely got that vibe too. Anyway, I guess we should go to bed. I'm utterly exhausted."

The trip to the top floor of the Inn wasn't terribly taxing, seeing as there were only three floors total. All the walls of the public spaces were a rich red color with dark brown paneled wainscoting. The walls were adorned with charming pastoral scenes and faux candle lamps. All the while Josephine was trying to figure out a sleeping arrangement what wouldn't make her die of embarrassment. Eventually they made it to a white wooden door with lovely gold painted scroll work. Caspian eased the key into the lock and the door swung open with the slightest touch.

Josephine's mouth dropped. "Oh boy."

The room was truly beautiful and if she were here on her wedding night, Josephine definitely wouldn't be disappointed. The room what situated in one of the towers, so everything past the entrance way was molded into to fit he shape of the curved stone walls. The entrance way was still in the Inn proper, so there were was a short flight of stairs into the actual room. Built into the walls were small lattice windows and wrought iron candle holders. The floor was covered with a thick red rug and the stone walls had tapestries in a matching hue. There was a small sitting area situated in front of a the stone mason fireplace; simply a small white loveseat with red accents and a dark wood coffee table with a few magazines spread onto of the glass top. By far the bed was what dominated the room, it was a massive king sized walnut wood bed with a gauzy white canopy that dripped down over the posts. The pillows and comforter—and the sheets, she assumed, though Josephine couldn't actually see them at the moment—were a deep, blood red with soft white accents. The bed was piled so high with pillows, sheets, blankets and the like that it probably went up to the middle of her rib cage.

"There's no way I'm going to be able to get on that bed without a running start." She looked back at Caspian, who had one eyebrow cocked in disbelief.

"Well, its definitely, um, cozy." Josephine nodded in agreeance, and walked in a little further. There was a white chest of drawers on the opposite side of the bed and also a vanity with mirror. She heading in that direction and motioned for Caspian to bring the backpack so she could unpack.

While looking at their bag on the bed, Josephine noticed a door next to the entrance way and decided that it must the the private bathroom. She wasn't sure how much she wanted to see what was inside. Images of whirlpool tubs and 'massage' oils flashed through her mind and she quickly finished unpacking so she wouldn't have to be tempted to go take a look.

"I'm so tired!" Josephine exclaimed to no one in particular, though, Caspian looked up from the loveseat, where he had been reading one of their faerie books, and smiled.

"Get some sleep then, Princesita. Take the bed, I'll sleep on this." He indicated where he was currently sitting. Josephine pursed her lips.

"Are you sure? I mean, I can sleep there. You're too tall to sleep on that thing, you'd not be able to stretch out properly."

Caspian shook his head and chuckled softly. "No, Princesita, you are the lady, you take the bed. Don't worry about me, I've had to sleep on worse."

Josephine thought about arguing with him, but decided a) she was too tired to and b) she really sort of liked that Caspian was chivalrous. She quickly grabbed an old tee-shirt with camouflage sleeves that read 'nighthawk' across the front, a pair of camouflage pajama pants, and her hair brush before dashing into the Bathroom of Newlywed Overkill.

It wasn't actually too horrendous. The walls were of rough cut stone like all the walls Josephine had previously seen in their room, though the floor was tiled with plain white tiles. There was a glass shower next to the ubiquitous whirlpool tub, and nary a candle or bottle of massage oil to be found. The count ran along one wall, again a plain white with two sinks and one long mirror.

Josephine quickly changed and brushed her long blond hair into a messy ponytail. She exited the room, though not before thinking about taking a bath.

Once we was back into their room, she padded over to Caspian and sat down next to him, her head resting on his shoulder. He brushed his lips over her forehead, sending shivers down her spine. Josephine inhaled deeply, loving the smell of leather and musk. He kept his face buried in her hair.

"Do you think we should call Susan?" She murmured into his shoulder.

"She said she would telephone us, besides, you do not want to call her and have one of the police officers there with her."

She sighed internally; why did he always have to be right? Josephine made to stand and Caspian swiftly stood with her. "Why do you do that? Stand when I do, I mean."

He smiled. "A gentleman never sits while a lady stands." She nodded, chivalrous butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

"Well, goodnight." She mumbled, looking at the carpet. Caspian tilted her chin up so that her Tyrian eyes meet his black ones. He leaned forward, bringing his lips painfully close to her's. Josephine couldn't help herself, she closed the gap between them, meeting his warm mouth with hers.

Caspian kept the kiss quick and gentle, pulling away a few moments later. "Goodnight Princesita Josephine." She couldn't help but blush.

"G'night, Caspian."

With a running start she leaped onto the ridiculously high bed and settled in for the night.

[~*~]

The night he spent on the small sofa was probably one of the most uncomfortable in Caspian's life; though the time he accidentally locked himself out of the battlements of the castle and had to sleep all night in the torrential rain had been worse; at least it was warm in the Inn room. Caspian woke up fairly early in the morning and was showered and dressed in his black pants and dark blue tee-shirt by the time Josephine started to stir. Caspian took a quick glance in the mirror to make sure his hair wasn't sticking up in some weird, unattractive way, then turned to the now awake woman on the bed.

"Good morning, Princesita. How did you sleep?" Josephine yawned, and, raising her arms high above her head, stretched. Caspian distinctly heard her joints crack. She turned to him and smiled.

"Really, well. Which is surprising because of the time zones."

"So what is the plan for today?" He questioned; Josephine smiled sheepishly, which made him worry slightly that he would be forced to go shopping again.

"Well, I figured we could check out the train station, but also, if you're okay with it, I was wondering if you'd let me indulge in a little nerdy sight seeing. Like the Tower of London, the houses of Parliament, Greenwich, the Tate Museum, St. Paul's Cathedral...um, you think I'm crazy don't you?" The expression on her face changed from ecstatic to worried in about three seconds.

Caspian couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up from his chest. "No, no, Princesita, you simply seem so animated about the city, have you vacationed her before?"

She shook her head. "Susan always talked about it, but I think it would have been too painful for her." Caspian frowned a moment, he thought he could understand Susan's emotions. It was the same feeling he got when he made his monthly homage to his parents' tomb.

"Well if we wish to accomplish all of that in one day, I suggest you get ready for the day." He smiled.

Sooner rather than later Josephine was freshly showered—smelling deliciously like pomegranate—and dressed in a green shirt with a faded but brilliant peacock on the front and an even more beautiful tail trailing over the back and her ubiquitous blue jean material pants. Caspian hoisted the smaller, red backpack over his shoulder and, taking her small delicate hand in his, they set out.

Because it was the closest stop on Josephine's crazy itinerary, Caspian found himself next to an oddly dressed man on Tower Green of the Tower of London. Josephine, who was standing next to him, was absolutely giddy with excitement.

"And this is where King Henry VIII second wife, Queen Anne Boleyn was beheaded on rather trumped up charges of witchcraft and adultery. She was behead by a swordsman from Calais; the sword was said to be more merciful than an ax and was Henry's final gift to ex-wife. This is also where her cousin, and the fourth wife of Henry, Catherine Howard, was beheaded for adultery—which being queen meant de facto treason. It wasn't surprising that Catherine was guilty of her charges, she was thirty years younger than the obese and ailing king."

Caspian felt a little sick when he heard the Yeoman's words; he gripped Josephine's hand a little tighter.

"If you'll all follow me, I will take you to White Tower where popular theory has the young sons of Edward IV were murdered by their power mad uncle, Richard III."

The strangest thing happened once the tour had trouped up the stairs and were clustered in a small, well furnished room. Josephine, who had been rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, suddenly froze mid bounce, and slowly turned her head to the back of the room. She blinked a moment, then shook her golden head. Caspian seemed to be the only member of the tour to notice.

Jo—Katherine, what is wrong?" He asked, in his concern he momentarily forgot about their false names. She turned to look at him, her purple eyes wide.

"I don't know, I thought I heard someone say my name and when I turned around there was a man—well maybe a teenager, really—and when I blinked he was gone."

Caspian raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "Are you sure you saw him?" She nodded, a somewhat angry expression on her face. Before she could snap at him, he quickly asked another question. "What did he look like?"

"It's weird, I only saw him for a moment, but...its like his image is burned into my mind. He was average height, thin with lean muscles in his arms. Strange orangy red hair; it was shorter and seemed to be blowing in the wind, but there's no wind here... his eyes were strange. Stormy. I don't think they were a distinct color. He was really pale, angular face, high cheekbones, Romanesque nose. And he was looking at me in the weirdest way..." She shrugged and rubbed her upper arms; though it was not cold in the building.

Eventually thoughts of the strange man exited Josephine's head—especially when they neared the crown jewels—and seeing as she hand no more experiences whilst in the Tower, Caspian tried to put his mind at rest.

After the Tower tour, they stopped at the Tate Modern, which Caspian absolutely hated. Whatever happened to a nice pastoral scene or a tapestry? Broken pianos and cubes of metal was not art. Josephine seemed to be enjoying herself though, so Caspian kept his moth shut. Well, not entirely, there had been a brief moment behind some massive cubist sculpture where his mouth, and Josephine's had definitely be open, pressed against each other. His arms around her waist and shoulders, her's wrapped around his neck; before a security guard told them to get a room.

Josephine, turning away from the guard, blushed violently, Caspian smiled. "Newly wedded."

The guard shrugged. "Sorry, juts part of the job."

Suddenly, Josephine gripped his wrist painfully tightly. "Ow!"

His exclamation didn't register wit her it appeared. "Caspian, I must be going crazy. I just saw that guy again." He quickly positioned himself in front of her.

"Where?"

"Over by the giant spider thing's left middle leg." She pointed pasted him to a massive steel sculpture that looked like a spider descending from the glass ceiling. Caspian looked hard, at everyone even remotely close to where Josephine had indicated; he couldn't see anyone matching the description she had given earlier.

"Is he gone?"

"I think so..." Her voice trembled slightly and Caspian suddenly had the tremendous urge to punch who ever was messing with his Querida. He turned back to the frightened Josephine and, folding his muscular arms around her shoulders, pulled her into a gentle hug. He pressed his face to her golden hair, inhaling the tempting scent of pomegranates and sunshine.

"Come now, Princesita. Don't worry about anything. Let us go to the train station; I'll take you to Greenwich and Westminster tomorrow." She nodded minutely at his words and they turned to leave, though Caspian kept his arm firmly around her shoulders.

[~*~]

Josephine stood in the Museum for the Memorial of the Deceased in the train station, having a minor, mental panic attack. Not only did appear that some creepy teenage boy had decided to stalk her—at once both ruining her supposed fun filled nerd vacation, but also, simply freaking her out in general—but on top of that it now seemed if she and Caspian wished to continue on their quest, she—well, they really—would have to pull a breaking and entering, vandalism, and grand theft jewelry. Looking back on thing she should have known it wasn't going to be easy.

What had happened was, after hoofing it through the packed London streets from the Tate to the train station, She and Caspian discovered that finding a pair of small yellow ring would be like finding the needle in the proverbial haystack.

She let out a groan that sounded like a cross between a wookie mating call and creaky door and plopped down on a nearby wooden bench. "This place is huge! We'll never find them."

Caspian sat next to her, his head resting in his hands. "Maybe we should ask someone."

Josephine bit back the sarcastic comment that was just jumping to come out. She got up and, locating the closest guard—who was an older gentleman, went up to him. "Excuse me sir, my Great Uncle died in some really horrible train wreck here in the forties, is there some sort of memorial?"

"Yes miss, at the end of the platforms, by the gift shop." He pointed down the steam filled room.

She smiled kindly at him, "Thank you." and flounced off back to Caspian. When she reached him, he looked up, locking his black eyes on hers. Josephine struggled to control the blush that crept up her cheeks every time he did that. Oddly enough, she didn't blush because he was looking at her—no she rather enjoyed the emotions that were displayed in his dark eyes when he did so—it was the school girl flutter her heart made every time he met her eyes with his that made her blush. "There's a museum next to the gift shop, if you ask me, it sounds like Satan in a Sunday hat."

Caspian looked slight confused at her words but stood up and laced his fingers with her own. "What do you mean?"

She smiled. "Its something I remember one of my Sunday school teachers say--you know, back when we went to church. It means something that looks too good to be true."

The Museum was simply a small room, decorated with lots of photographs from the day of the crash and a few display cases along the walls and in neat rows throughout the room. She and Caspian perused each exhibit carefully, reading the descriptions fully. They went through most of the museum before they found what they were looking for and when they did, Josephine had to fight to keep tears from spilling down her cheeks. On a small display table near the back corner were various objects.

"_These typical 1940's objects were found on the persons of a young man and, assumedly, his younger sister. Rescue workers found their bodies days after the crash, the young man appeared to have thrown himself over the girl's body in an attempt to protect her. It is thought that she might have survived if a large marble block from a nearby column hadn't fallen onto them. The only truly remarkable items found were a pair of small yellow rings—which are displayed above in the center of the rest of the victims' possessions." _

Josephine and Caspian looked up to the case simultaneously; their eyes falling on the rings in question. Josephine glanced up at Caspian, who in turn was looking at her. She sniffled.

"I think, Princesita, we will have to steal them." And with those words, her brain stopped functioning for a moment.

* * *

**Sorry if Stalker Boy sounds a bit like Edward Cullen, he's not supposed to be--he's much more fun! It's just he really needs to have weird bronze hair and pale skin. For anyone who watches HBO's Trueblood, you should recognize the 'satan in a sunday hat' line. I just find it funny so I had to stick it in. Sorry about all the history, but I couldn't not have Josephine in the Tower and not talk about Anne Boleyn. And yeah, they sort of had to sight see, so Stalker Boy could show up. Anyway, hope you liked it and review?**


	13. Ariel and Coeurin

**Woo! Guess who's back? Back again? Princess Tverski's back, tell a friend! Sorry about the ridiculous wait, I have a whole list of excuses that I'm sure you don't want to hear. Mostly it was just a wicked case of laziness and lack of motivation, and I'm sorry for that. But now I'm back, and I will hopefully try to stick to my one chapter a week thing I had going on, though in two weeks I will be starting university, so I'm not sure how much time I'll have to write while I'm supposed to be getting oriented. Anyway, sorry for the Deus ex machina in this chapter--it'll make more sense later on, I promise. **

Chapter 13

Josephine glanced at Caspian for a moment, trying to decide if he was being serious. Unfortunately, he was. "You know, I used to be a good girl until I met you. Now you have me fleeing the law and stealing things. You've turned me into a delinquent."

Caspian rolled his eyes at her antics. "You would have punched Michaela eventually. I just gave you an excuse to get away with it." Josephine stuck her tongue out at him, before turning serious.

"Maybe I could just ask if I could have them...I mean, they did belong to my father." She pointed out, hoping there was a way around thievery on foreign soil.

He snorted. "Yes, and how do you explain that your father was twenty something years of age in the 1940s when he died, while you, yourself, are only sixteen years of age nearly fifty years later?" He ran his fingers absentmindedly though his hair. "You have silver tongue, Josephine, but I doubt even you would be able to explain that."

A light breeze rustled her hair as she thought. "_distractions...diversions...pandemonium and trickery..."_ the words seemed to float though her mind unbidden. She let her eyes go unfocused as she looked at the glass display case; almost seeing a flash of bronze in the reflective surface. Josephine glanced back at the handsome man besides her. "I think a little trickery and pandemonium is in order." She smirked as she recalled the alien words from her mind.

Caspian grinned. "And just what did you have in mind, milady?"

[~*~]

All things considered, Josephine thought their heist worked out really well—though, they could hardly take credit.

Josephine stood silently a little ways off from the youngish gentleman manning the cash register in the gift shop—he was also in charge of keeping one of this green eyes on the museum next door. She had tugged down the v-neck of her green tee shirt and hand liberally applied a blood red lip gloss until her lips looked so luscious, near by men were in danger from walking into walls. She innocently browsed through the sunglasses tree, playfully feigning interest on a pair of heart shaped Lolita glasses.

"Can I help you?" The youngish man asked. Josephine looked up demurely and smiled; _of course you can_ she thought.

"Do these look good on me?" she said, affecting an eastern European accent and brought her hands up to frame her face. The man seemed at a loss as to what to say so not to get a sexual harassment lawsuit. In his defense, her lips were utterly alluring.

"You look like a pop star."

Josephine frowned a took on a look of shock purposely mishearing him. "Please sir! I would be in no such movies. How dare you insinuate such a thing." Her loud shouts made near by shoppers and museum guest looked over to see what the kerfluffled was about. The clerk looked utterly horrified.

He held up his hands trying to placate the somewhat hysteric girl before him. His green eyes frantically dashed from the lithe figure before him to the various other patrons.

Before either he or anyone else could say or do something, steam from the few antique train engines billowed in, completely obscuring everyone and everything in white smoke. When the steam cleared a minute later, the strange girl with luscious lips was gone as well as two little yellow rings in a back display case.

[~*~]

Josephine lay across the massive Inn room bed, staring at the white brocade canopy and thinking about the day before. After stealing the rings, they had fled back to the Inn, where Josephine had convinced Caspian to watch _Beauty and the Beast_ and _Enchanted _with her. "That steam was a lucky break you know..."

Caspian, who was seated next to her, nodded, and frowned in a pensive manner. "It seemed oddly strange, almost too convenient."

Josephine rolled onto her stomach and rested her cheek against his warms hand. "Don't be silly. Its not like either of us can control the wind." She felt his dark eyes resting on her face before she looked up to meet them with her own purple eyes. She sat up a bit. "Whats wrong, Caspian?"

He shook his head and broke into a smile. "Nothing, Princesita." Slowly, Caspian traced her cheekbone and jaw with his fingers, before bending down—painfully slowly—to press is mouth to hers. Josephine instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling her willowy figure closer to his muscle packed body. He increased the pressure of his mouth on hers, and slid an arm around her waist.

A loud knock at the door made Josephine leap away from Caspian, guiltily smoothing down her shirt. Caspian made his way over to speak to their interrupter; Josephine watched from the bed as he spoke in low whispers to whomever had such bad timing, her curiosity growing by the second. He closed the door a moment later, and leaned against the nearby wall, arms cross his chest.

Josephine tilted her head to the side. "Who was that?"

"Helen. Apparently there was some scheduling conflict and there is another couple downstairs, requesting this room. She has offered to pay for another room, or refund our money. What would you like to do?"

Josephine pursed her lips. On the one hand, she certainly wasn't finished seeing London—though she could tell that if they staid, one, they would be more likely to have a run in with the law and two Caspian would start to get restless and moody about not continuing on their question. But if she went wit him to Narnia, as was the plan, there was no guarantee that she'd ever see London—or any other city on earth—again. She knew she couldn't be selfish about this. "I guess have her refund the money and we'll continue north."

Caspian nodded, and in the blink of an eye, strode over to the bed and softly kissed her on the lips—taking her unawares. Before she could respond, he had hastened downstairs to take care of business. Josephine decided that now would be a good time to get dressed.

Standing up, she stretched and grabbed her blue dress that she had been so determined to bring.

The dress was a pretty thing, though completely impractical for whatever it was that she and Caspian would be doing that day. Still, Josephine decided to follow her whimsy nature and wear it anyway. Perhaps Caspian would appreciate the gesture.

The dress—which buying had been another one of those whimsical impulses Josephine found herself getting quite a lot—was reminiscent of Victorian style dresses for younger girls—the skirt, though full, came only down to her knees and was gathered in the back in a small bustle. The bodice was the same glacial blue as the skirt with blue lacing in the back and capped sleeves. The the square neckline, sleeves, and hemline was all edged in gold lace. She felt half little girl, half fairytale princess, and completely beautiful in it.

Josephine giggled as she slipped on her matching blue ballet flats and started to pack up their things; wondering what sort of room they would be staying in next.

Suddenly Brendon Urie's high energy voice blared from the corner of the dresser. Josephine whipped around and snatched her cellphone, eagerly hoping to hear from Susan.

"hello?"

"Josephine! I'm sorry I haven't called. I've been to busy playing phone tag with that idiot Sheriff. How are things progressing?"

Josephine rolled her eyes at the phone in her hand. It would figured that Susan would only be interested in finding how far she and Caspian were getting on the 'homework' as it were. Never mind idle chit-chat or pleasantries. "We got the rings. I think we're heading up to Scotland today thought, the Inn accidentally double booked our room. And..." Josephine stopped, unsure if she wanted to tell her Auntie about strange stalker boy she had seen the previous day.

"And...?" Came Susan's inquisitive and slightly annoyed tone.

"Oh, nothing. I was just going to blather on about going to the Tower of London." Josephine turned when she head the door open and close. Caspian stood in the doorway, eyebrow raised at her outfit. She raised one hand to tell him she'd be off the phone in a moment. "Well, I've got to go, Auntie. Caspian's back and we have to pack up and get to the train station. Love you bye!" She clicked the 'end' button after Susan muttered her goodbyes.

"What are you wearing?" Came Caspian's amused tone. She smiled at him.

"I would think that you would know a dress when you saw a girl wearing one." He chuckled and shook his head.

"You look like one of those dolls in toy store windows." Josephine couldn't help herself from laughing.

"That's slightly the point. Anyway, I've packed everything. Are we ready to go?"

[~*~]

To avoid anyone reconsigning Josephine, they went to Kings Cross Railway instead of the station where Caspian had obtained the rings. Settling on the the train to Edinburgh, Josephine couldn't help but wonder what the other passengers thought of her and Caspian. In the dress she was wearing, she looked a bit younger than she usually did—which, because she usually was mistook for being older, meant she actually looked sixteen—and Caspian, in his fitted black pants and dark blue shirt looked a few years older than he was—not to mention quite regal and delicious looking. She rested her head on his shoulder and watched the green countryside breeze past.

The four hour ride was fairly relaxing. Caspian read more from their stack of books—this time he was reading _Iron Side_ by Holly Black—and Josephine switched from staring out the window and thinking to reading the heavy Grimm's Fairy Tales that she had taken from her home collection.

"You know, I was thinking about going to university in Scotland. Maybe even the University of Edinburgh, or Aberdeen. I'm not sure." Josephine chattered, while she and Caspian were waiting in line at the information desk in the Scottish train station, to ask about a good hotel they could stay at.

Caspian smiled at her, though she could see some sort of question lurking in his eyes. "Are there a lot of universities here?" By 'here' she knew he meant in her world, as opposed to Narnia. "And any one can attend?"

She nodded. "There were at least ten within half an hour from Susan's house. Each university has its own requirements for be accepted, but generally if a person wants to attend a college, they can find a way. Though its usually ungodly expensive." They shuffled forward a few paces and Caspian gently laced his fingers with hers.

"What would you have studied?"

Josephine pursed her lips, thinking. "Probably medieval literature." She blushed a bit, realizing how nerdy she sounded. "You know, Dante, Chaucer..." She trailed off, forgetting for a moment that Caspian would not, in fact, know anything about Dante or Chaucer or any other medieval author. The flustered middle aged man ahead of them finished his business with the equally middle aged information clerk and went back to his rambunctious children. Josephine and Caspian approached the kiosk and Josephine did a double take at the raven-haired young man inside.

"Welcome to Edinburgh, Capital of Scotland. How may I help you?" He said these words with much enthusiasm, though Josephine could detect a hint of boredom and mockery in his tone. She busied herself with straightening her bodice and fluffing her skirts while Caspian did all the talking. All the while she kept a violet eye on the strange man.

"Yes, I am looking for a near-by hotel that would be acceptable for my wife and I stay at. And, also, I would be very much obliged if you could point out some cites of archeological or mythological interest." Caspian spoke the words with easy, and one would never know that they had gone over them continually on the train, trying to make the words sound innocent enough.

The young man—who appeared to be about Caspian's age—smiled toothily at them, giving Josephine the distinct impression of a wolf. "Well, there's the Wild Hunt Inn about five blocks north," he pointed behind him, to indicate the direction, "There's also the Hotel Windemire, which is about three miles west." Again his pointed, and Caspian nodded, obliviously communicating something important in the strange and universal Guy Speak that Josephine couldn't decipher.

The man brought out a map of the city and surrounding area, and mark both hotels with an orange highlighter. "As for tourist cites, there's various Castle excavations, the tunnels. Out to the south of the city there are some ruins that have been said to be the ancient location of Camelot. There are, of course, lots of faerie mounds." He marked each location as he said them; though with his last words, he looked up, straight at Josephine, instead of marking anything down.

She smiled demurely. "And what is a fearie mound?"

The young man smiled his wolfish grin again. "Well, old wives' tale is that they're portals to another world. Where the Fair Folk gather. Or so they say." Josephine raised her eyebrow in feigned disbelief, but didn't say anything; the information clerk was obviously trying to get a rise out of her.

Caspian gave the raven haired man a tight lipped smile, grabbed the map while muttering a thank you. He quickly took Josephine's pale white hand and pulled her away.

Once they were out of the station and near the curb of a bustling street trying to hail down a cab, Josephine remarked, "Well, that was weird. I could have sworn that guy was a middle aged lady before."

Caspian looked at her askance. "What are you talking about, that was an older woman."

Her mouth dropped open. "What? No way. It was obviously a guy. Your ageish, black hair, freaky green eyes..."

A look of worry spread across his handsome face. "Princesita, are you feeling well?"

A taxi cab pulled up and, as they slinked into the back seat, Josephine muttered, "I hope so."

[~*~]

After getting situated in what Josephine assured him was a rather standard upper budget hotel room—bar the canopy bed—they decided to troop out to what the information clerk—regardless of gender—had called Faerie Mounds.

After he inquired at the front desk, it seemed to Caspian that any time he mentioned the word 'faerie' it got him no where. The perky young receptionist shook her chestnut colored head at him when he mentioned such things. "I do not know what you're talking about. I suggest you try Holyrood Park, if you're looking for hills. There's an extinct volcano, its easiest to climb from the east."

So there they were, standing at the foot of an extinct volcano with a small lake behind them. "You'd better hope you don't fall and ruin that pretty dress of yours." Caspian teased. Josephine simply rolled her purple eyes at him.

"You're just jealous that I look so cute."

He chuckled, took her hand, and started to walk up the gentle grassy slope. "You do look lovely, its just not very practical."

She laughed, he couldn't help smiling more when she laughed. "I never said I was practical."

The walk up the volcano, called Arthur's Seat, wasn't taxing or long at all, and surprisingly, Josephine didn't fall down once. Very soon Caspian found himself looked out over a stunning vista of the city, Josephine with her golden head resting on his shoulder. He turned and brushed a few strands of yellow hair behind her ear. Her smiled seemed to be enhanced by the vibrant colors of the setting sun—no, wait, the setting sun was enhanced by her smile, he decided. Better yet, she was the sun set; golden hair, palest peach skin, blood red lips, and violet eyes—all the colors of the descending orb. He bent his head a few inched closer to hers, taking in the smell of pomegranates and sunlight. "Josephine..."

A strong wind whipped up, blowing her hair violently; Caspian thought he could hear her name echo. But none of that mattered, because a moment later, Josephine had pressed her soft red lips to his mouth. He hadn't expected her to make the move to kiss him, but he found that he enjoyed it, nonetheless. He encircled her slight waist with his arms, pulling her closer to him, all the while reveling the steady pressure of her lips on his. It didn't register with him that they were not alone, until the two bystanders started speaking.

"You know, Coeurin, I find it a bit unnerving to keep tabs on these two when all they do is kiss." The voice had a strange cultured accent, though the tone was filled with sardonic boredom.

Josephine pulled away from him suddenly; she glanced around wildly until her gaze finally rested on a spot about ten feet away. Caspian kept his arms around he waist protectively, though he couldn't see what or who she was looking at.

"I agree Ariel, though I think the little girl can see us." The new voice had the same accent, though was a bit more kind in tone.

Caspian's hand itched to reach of the sword that wasn't at his hip. "Can you see them?" He whispered to Josephine. She nodded in reply, though didn't speak. He decided that he'd had enough; gently placing Josephine behind him, Caspian stepped forward. "Show yourselves, you cowards."

"Well if that's what you really want." The mocking voice spoke and in a moment, two young appearing men stepped out of thin air, blank court smiles plaster on their lips, a sparkle of malice in their eyes.

* * *

**Disclaimer: "Guess Who's Back" (or whatever its called) belongs to Eminem, not me. All Pevensies and Narnia's belong to CS Lewis' estate and a bunch of other people. Ariel belongs to William Shakespeare (well, the template of Ariel, anyway, I'm giving him a twist). Josephine and Coeurin Belong to me exclusively. Also, I've tried to be as acurate as possibly about landmarks while keeping everything in line with the story. Anyhoo, I hoped you liked it, sorry for the wait, and Review?**


	14. Queenie

**Woot! Here it is, Chapter 14! See I told you guys I wasn't slipping into Author Lethargy. Hope you like it. My sometimes beta reader called it 'intense'. You be the judge. Read on!**

Chapter 14

Josephine, safely wrapped in Caspian's strong arms, first stared in shock at the two men that materialized out of no where, then trembled with rage when she recognized the first as the strange boy that had been stalking her all week and the second as the information clerk at the train station that had tried to frighten her. She took their appearances in, again, studying each man closely.

The first man, whom she thought might be Ariel, was of slim build and lean muscle covered in marble white skin. He appeared to be of average height, perhaps a few inches shorter than Caspian with angular, classical features, short cropped bronze colored hair and mercurial violet eyes. His companion, probably Coeurin, was at once both very similar and very different from the first man. He was tall, taller, even than Caspian, with long, purple tinged rave locks and apple green eyes. His muscle mass was evident from the way his black shirt fit like a second skin. Coeurin's skin was just as pale as Ariel's; and his face just as angular—though his jaw was stronger and his nose Romanesque. Both had point tipped ears.

In the brief moment it took for Josephine to take their appearances in, her blood nearly boiled right out of her veins. This was who had been making her think she was crazy? Who had been following her around and scaring her all week? Two _boys?_ It was an outrage; she was Princess of Narnia, Infanta of Telmar, rightful High Queen. Who did these children think they were?

Caspian seemed to sense her anger, and, obviously, felt her tremble. "Josephine, mi Querida, are you alright?"

"The fuck I am alright!" she all but screeched, her anger getting the better of her tongue. She pushed herself away from Caspian and marched closer to the newcomers, who simply regarded her with mild amusement. "You total bastards! Who do you think you are? Following me around, trying to give me a fright?"

The strangers glanced at each other, identical smirks plastered to their lips. She turned to the one she thought was Ariel. "And you, you completely destroyed my visit to the Tower!"

Ariel put one long, elegant hand across his heart and bowed low to her, all the while keeping his eyes fixed on hers. "A thousand pardons, my lady. I was simply curious about you." His tone was, surprisingly, serious, without a hint of mockery. She raised her eyebrow at them both—though she was a bit disconcerted about the way Coeurin kept staring at her—and felt her anger slowly abate; the apology had seemed genuine. She felt Caspian's hand on her waist a moment later, and knew that he was standing next to her.

"I think the question you aught to be answering is, who are you and what do you want with us?" Caspian demanded.

"That's two questions." The tall raven haired man pointed out.

"And we're really only interested in the Princess Josephine, anyway." Ariel replied unhelpfully.

"Who. Are. You?" Was Caspian's tight-lipped demand; Josephine stood quietly, eyes narrowed in observation. How had they known her name, and why had they called her Princess? True she was an Narnian princess, but no one save she, Caspian, and Susan would know that.

The bronze haired man smiled charmingly. "Well, he is Coeurin of Lyonesse." He pointed to the raven haired knight who bowed elegantly, and Josephine found she couldn't tell if the gesture was mocking.

"And he is Ariel Du Vent."

She raised her eyebrow. "That tells me absolutely nothing. And what do you want with me anyway?" She snapped.

Ariel looked as if he were to speak, but Coeurin interjected. "It tells you what to call us." Ariel grinned. Josephine thought that these two strange men before her must have known each other for a very long time; for they seemed mirror the others' words with action or thoughts with words. Coeurin seemed completely in sync with Ariel and the bronze colored man likewise with his raven haired companion.

"We've been sent to help you." Ariel said, finally speaking with clarity and not in circles.

"By who?" Caspian's lyrical voice murmured from behind Josephine's left ear, sending shivers down her spine. Ariel placed a long, white finger to his lips.

"You'll just have to follow us and find out." Coeurin smiled wolfishly as he spoke.

"Patience is a virtue, or so they say." Josephine was really staring to get annoyed all over again with their constant back and forth circles of riddles of words.

"How can we know to trust you?" Caspian demanded. Josephine was glad that Caspian could think clearly enough to ask important questions at the moment, she was just to weirded out by the fact that these two had been stalking her all week.

"We wouldn't hurt Josephine." Ariel whispered.

"And you're with her, so why would we hurt you?" Coeurin seemed genuinely confused as to why he had to point that out to the handsome King.

The sun had fully set by now, casting everything into inky purple shadows. A slight breeze danced through the air, ruffling hair and clothing tenderly. Josephine shivered when she became abruptly aware of the change in temperature—the silk of her dress was not very warming.

"What would you have us do now?" Caspian inquired.

"Follow."

"And be quiet."

Before Josephine could get her bearings, she and Caspian were flanked by their new acquaintances—Coeurin glowering next to Caspian, who, surprisingly matched the giant of a man for height, and Ariel suavely linked his arm with hers, reassuringly patting her hand, and some how, she did not feel the need to pull away from him.

Ariel smelled of cloves and thunder storms. "Your dress is very lovely, Princess." he complimented, casually.

Josephine regarded her escort in a rather confused way. "Why do you call me 'princess'?"

"Because you are a Princess, are you not?" Came Coeurin's deep, rumbled voice. Josephine reached for Caspian's hand in the dark; he squeezed her fingers gently.

They were standing in front of a large purplish black boulder, facing the crescent moon. She thought she might be able to discern a portal in cut into the rock face, but Josephine couldn't be sure in the the near blackness.

Coeurin and Ariel glanced at each other, nodded and the raven haired man put his large but graceful hand on Caspian's shoulder before he started to chant, with Ariel soon picking up the rhythm, switching off at each. The night was soon filled with the low tolling of their voices, much recalling medieval monks at work.

"Come away, Come away

with a faerie hand in hand

come away, come away

to the place were naught can understand

to the land where nobody dies

where nobody gets old, grave, or too wise

come away, come away

Yes, the strange shadow land, just below mortal plane

dance among the stars, wreathed in holy faerie flame

come away, come away,

but remember this is not your true place

mortal child, to sleep and rest your head

and when your welcome wears scarce

keep kin close least you turn dead

So come away, come away,

with a faerie hand in hand

enter the realm of myth and enchanting

fleeting and sanguine

come away, come away

with a faerie hand in hand."

Josephine gave a little gasp as a door outline in the rock, started to glow with a blinding azure light, brighter and brighter as the chant went on, until at the last line, a six inch thick slab of rock door slide open as if it were one oiled hinges. She tightened her grip on Caspian's hand.

Faeries. In the back of her mind, she had suspected the fey, ever since that strange incident with the information clerk in the Scottish train station. Even with all their faerie research, Josephine had never fully, completely believed it. And now, she was quite sure that she was standing between two of them.

"Don't worry, Josephine." He whispered, his warm breath caressing her cheek, as she, him, and their escorts stepped into the boulder and down slippery steps cut from the same purple black stone as the rock above their heads. Their path was lit by pale blue glowing crystals that protruded from the surrounding walls naturally.

Down, down, down they went, the air growing gradually warmer—Josephine wondered if they would ever stop venturing downward, of if they were being led to Hell. She felt a bit like Dorothy in Oz.

"How come I could see you, both?" Josephine whispered, though in her voice seemed to echo off every surface, magnifying the sound.

"All in good time, my dear." Ariel chirped—his voice equally distorted in the cavernous stairwell. Warm air blew up at them, though Josephine was comforted when she realized that it was not a burning hot, metallic wind that she would attribute to Hell, but a soft, warm, mid-summer breeze, that was filled with the scent of flowers and grass.

_Lions and tigers and bears... "_Oh my." she murmured.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of descent, the party arrived at an ornately carved, white stone, lattice gate. In the center of the gate was a half orb or the same bluish glowing crystal, with a small hole in the center. With much swiftness, so that Josephine hadn't registered the action until after it was completed, Coeurin slid a long shaft of the same material into the hole, twisted to the left, then retracted his key. The gate slid up with a low, grinding sound and they stepped forwards, into a massive chamber.

White columns stretched for what seemed like eternity in four straight row, spaced evening apart. Twisting up the column shafts were carved vines, leaves, and flowers. Josephine couldn't see the ceiling, though long lengths of fabric hung down from the hidden rafters—royal blues and purples, the brightest scarlets, and deepest burgundies. All just barely above their heads. The floor was of the blackest marble, and everything seemed to rise out of like shapes out of a black abyss. Parallel with the edge of the column rows were large white stone half walls, concealing small alcove like rooms of various natures; some were led to more corridors, some were living rooms or sitting rooms, dinning rooms. All the furniture was made of the same white stone as the columns and the walls, with plush velvet and brocade fabrics and cushions.

At the far side of the room, Josephine could just see a large crowd of people gathered around something. Ariel and Coeurin marched them forward, and, as they drew nearer to the mass of people, the crowed parted to let them through. She had never seen so many beautiful and terrible things in her life. There were heart breakingly lovely human like creatures—utterly flawless. There were also terrifying contorted, monsters, leering from the shadows. Every where she looked, Josephine saw a glittering, luminescent wing, a vibrant cloak, a dark slimy patch of skin. It was like being in a house of mirrors at a fancy dress ball. Most of the fey looked simply curious about her and Caspian, a few others bored and a very small minority looked hostile. Josephine tucked that information into the back of her mind, knowing full well that even a small number of mouths whispering discontent could fan the flames of hatred into an inferno.

The last group of fey lingering in front what Josephine assumed was a throne or some such thing, parted, revealing just that. An delicate carved marble throne upon which was the most utterly lovely woman she had ever seen.

This woman sat haughtily in her marble throne, ramrod straight, long filed nails gripping the arm rests. She had endlessly long blood red hair, woven into braids and dreadlocks, twisted into curls and small buns—rich and textured. Her skin was marble white—though Josephine herself was only a perhaps a shade or two darker, and the rest of the beautiful court ladies, just a tad darker still. Her eyes were a frightening molten gold color, and though they summoned the idea of burning, excruciatingly hot, things, the orbs retained a frigid quality—cold and unfeeling. A playful smile danced across her lips, but did not reach her eyes. She was dressed in a blood read gown of damask silk—full skirt, square neckline, three quarter length sleeves edged in the same material—around her neck she wore a massive, darkly glittering, black diamond set in platinum.

"I am Achillea, Queen of Air and Darkness."Her smiled changed to a sneer and fast as lightening she stood and in a terrifying voice, thundered, "WHO ARE YOU?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY COURT?" The nearby fey quivered and slinked back or sunk to the ground in fear. The queen's nostrils flared out a little, while Josephine—and assumedly Caspian—tried to marshal their thoughts.

Ariel untangled his arm from Josephine's and stepped forward, making an extremely deep courtly bow. "Majesty, you requested we bring them before you."

The frightening woman suddenly broke out into a smile and sat down gracefully. "Oh, that's right, I did." She locked eyes with Caspian, her smile deepening. "Please, introduce yourselves."

Caspian stepped forward half a step and inclined his head, in recognition of his superior rank. "I am Caspian X, Emperor of the Lone Islands, Czar Dragon Island, King of Narnia, Telmar, and Terebinthia, Duke of the Lantern Waste, of the Seven Isles, of Galma, Count of the Western March, Baron of Ettinsmor, Lord of Cair Paravel by law of Succession and Conquest" He stopped and held out a hand to Josephine. She readily took it, stepping forward, and bowing but a little. "This is my companion, Josephine Arielle Whitehall-Pevensie, Infanta of Telmar, Princess Royale of Narnia, Princess in Terebinthia, Archduchess of the Lone Islands, Grand Duchess of Dragon Island, Countess of the Lantern Waste, of the Seven Isles, of Galma, Viscountess of Western March, Lady of Ettinsmor, and Cair Paravel by law of Succession." Josephine concentrated on smiling and not betraying the fact that half the titles Caspian rattled off were news to her—he seemed to be added as he went. She absently wondered if she got to keep her new ranks.

The Queen continued to smile, though it faltered a little when Caspian called Josephine his 'companion'. When he was done speaking she inclined her fiery head at each of them in turn. "Welcome to the Court of Air and Darkness your Imperial Majesty and your Imperial Highness." She snapped her head sharply in Ariel's direction. "Take them to the blue suite. Tomorrow we will discuss what it is they have come for."

Ariel bowed offered his silk sheathed arm to Josephine.

"I'm sure you have much to speak of with your dear Josephine, anyway." The Queen continued.

"What do you mean?" Caspian nearly snapped—though somehow managed to stop himself—upon hearing his sweetheart's name. Achillea laughed—a rich ringing sound.

"Well, Ariel is her uncle!"

* * *

**Just to clear up a few things. I wrote the poem Ariel and Coeurin chant, but I heavily relied upon W.B. Yeats _A Land of Hearts Desire _and _The Stolen child_, so I can not claim that the poem is truely original, still, I would appreciate it if everyone treated it like orginal work and not copy / steal it. Secondly, Caspian's titles are all the titles he's given by Lewis, I just arranged them in descending order from highest rank and I changed 'emperor of Dragon Ilsand' to 'Czar of Dragon Ilsand', even though it means the same thing, just for veriated. Also, I made him King of Telmar instead of Lord of Telmar because I'd already named Josephine as an Infanta (princess) of Telmar and it wouldn't have made sense if Caspain was techincally ranked below her. For Josephine's titles, I made her one level below Caspian on all of them except when I styled her as Lady of Cair Paravel because Caspain was titled Lord of Cair Paravel and there isn't really any female rank below lord. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it, and I'm going to attempt to get another chapter up before I head off to university on the 6th. Reveiw?**


	15. Story Time!

**This Chapter is dedicated to Trichwin, for messaging me giving me the motivation that I needed to finished. There's an ice cream sundae with a cherry on top for you! Otherwise, I love you all for the fact that you put up with me being lame and not updating. I promise I haven't been eaten by Model UN or anything yet. I hope you like this one, and ONWARD!**

Chapter 15

It seemed to Josephine that, before she met Caspian, she had always thought of herself as an orphan, without family—besides, of course, he adoptive grandmother. But now, it seemed, that long lost relatives were popping up all over the place, be they dead or alive. Take for instance the mercurial faerie prince at her side. They were walking casually down a white stone corridor—lit by the ubiquitous glowing blue stones. Though their stride was leisurely, Josephine wanted nothing more than to get away from the stone grill screens and the prying eyes behind them. Ariel—her supposedly new found uncle—had tucked her hand reassuringly into the crook of his arm, Caspian followed close behind and the stony Coeurin brought up the rear of their little party. After many winding steps and long corridors they came to a metal door that seemed to have some sort of interesting bass relief on it, but the hallway was too dim for Josephine to properly make it out. Ariel pressed a glowing purple button on the side of the sunken door frame, and with a grinding noise, the metal slab slid upwards.

"The Queen had designated this apartment for your stay here. I suggest you two don't stray too far from these rooms without an escort." He smiled and motioned them inside with a wave of his hand.

Josephine freed herself from his grip and slipped through the door, Caspian immediately behind her. Upon entering the chamber, she glanced around, taking in the general atmosphere of the room; the walls, ceiling, floor, and even the furniture were all hewn out of the same white rock that dominated the rest of the palace complex. The room was lit with soft blue light, and, as Josephine's eye traveled around, she noticed that he walls hand murals carved onto them that extended up to the vaulted roof. The upholstery and bed covers were in various shades of blue—hence the name 'blue suite'. Josephine's violet eyes scanned the various pieces of stone furniture—a small table and chairs pushed against the far wall, a stone bench, with alternating sapphire and cerulean blue cushions, was placed in front of a massive blue crystal—which, Josephine assumed, was the main light source for the room—, there were two chest height cabinets flanking the bed.

"That's some very impressive craftsmanship." Caspian stated matter of factly as their gazes both fell on the bed.

Josephine nodded and had a distinct sense of déjà vu. The bed was a massive canopy and it seemed to have been carved out of one single block of stone, the pillows and quilt were, of course, in a light shade of turquoise.

"My word." She mused out loud.

"Well, I'll just bring up some chairs and Coeurin can guard the door." Ariel chirped. Josephine looked at him, with, she was sure, a distinctly 'huh' moronic look on her lovely face. Coeurin, who had never actually entered the room, turned his back to the doorway and pressed the purple block, slamming the bronze door shut.

"What, exactly, needs to be spoken of?" Caspian inquired to Ariel, who was smiling charmingly and motioning for them to sit.

"Calm down, sit down, and find out." Josephine found Ariel's way of grinning like a psychopath slightly disconcerting; still, she complied with his wishes and sat, with one ankle tucked behind the other, next to Caspian, who was sitting with his left ankle resting on the opposite knee, on the stone bench sofa.

"Are you really my uncle?"

"What does your queen want with us?" Caspian asked, just as Josephine spoke as well.

The fae's smiled only widened and a long, nearly painful moment passed before he opened his perfectly formed lips. "I believe, that, if you were to let me ramble on wildly, you would both reach the answer to your questions, but since we have all night, I will, in fact, do just that—though of course in a more concise manner."

He paused to make eye contact with each of them; Caspian first, whose gaze Ariel held with air of searching, then, suddenly, he switched his mercurial eyes Josephine. While her so called uncle's gaze rested on hers, Josephine could not focus on his purpose, or any thoughts that might have otherwise breezed through her mind in this situations, she could only focus on the revelation that she had seen his violet eyes before—every time she had gazed into a mirror, to be precise. Ariel's harsh, excited smile softened as he broke eye contact.

"The surname Du Vent is a recent acquisition, given to my family—our family, as it were—after we lost our right to rule the Northern Court. Achillea slew my father in a rather inventive take on the Rights of Succession and claimed the crown for herself. That was about…oh, two hundred years ago." Josephine was a surprised to find Ariel spoke of this only as if it were fact, with no personal attachments; he certainly possessed an interesting personality.

"The remaining members of the family were given the name Du Vent, because our essence is of the sky. I, for example, can bend the winds to my will and your mother was a star. Well of course she wasn't always a star—she used to just be like me, able to travel on air and cause hurricane force breezes, but I'll get to the deathly romantic part later. Questions?" As she spoke, Ariel's pace got faster and his breath intake decrease, so that he rather gasped the word 'questions' than spoke it.

"Why are you still alive?" Caspian questioned reasonably. "Achillea seems rather unstable, why has she not put to death? As the rightful heir to the throne, you're a viable threat to her power."

"All in good time, my dear King, or rather, I'll answer that right now. The Rights of Succession are fickle and complicated things. Firstly, the next rule of the Northern Court must either be Achillea's daughter—or another female in her direct line—who takes the throne in the usually manner; which is to say Achillea dies naturally or steps down and the new one steps up. Or a noble of the court who is not a member of her family must kill her in some brilliantly ruthless way, and take power. Obviously I am not Achillea's daughter; but neither do I possess the necessary ambition, discipline, or will to be King. She keeps me around as a symbol of her power—here is the rightful king, but he's harmless and everyone knows it."

Again, Josephine was almost shocked that there was no cynicism or irritation in his voice. Ariel simple seemed to accept the ways things were. "But what about my mother?" She pressed in earnest.

Ariel seemed to pause for a moment; his eyes going out of focus, as though he were looking not though space, but time. "Well, that is the question, isn't it?" He snapped himself out of his trance, and directed his seemingly permanent smile in Josephine's direction.

"As I said, you mother was once like me, except, of course, she was very different. Where I lacked ambition and determination, she had them in spades. Yes, Princess Isolde Ariella Du Vent was determined to be Queen Isolde of the Northern Court and win back the rights of her family. She and Coeurin planned it all out." At Josephine and Caspian's incredulous looks, Ariel chuckled. "They were betrothed you see—he's the last of the royal line of Lyonesse, which is a tale for another night. Anyway, Achillea found out about my beloved sister's little plot, and so she was banished to the human city of London—awful place, you know; simply chocked with iron. From what I understand, from the messages she sent me, it was there that she first saw, and fell in love with, her human. Peter."

Their storyteller said Josephine's father's name with a saddened look on his handsome face, but with a warm tone in his voice.

"This Peter, I hate him and love him you see. For once my sister was truly happy, but, as a result, now she is lost to me forever, thanks to him. He stumbled into another realm—though you both know this part. Isolde was so distraught at his leaving that she begged Ileuad for the ability to follow him."

"Who is Ileuad?" Caspian interjected.

Ariel glanced at the Narnian king for a moment, as though he had forgotten the Narnian's presence in the room, before opening his mouth to continue. Josephine wasn't sure if Caspian's question would be acknowledged or not.

"Ileuad is the grandmother of all the Fae, and the stars too, coincidently. I believe humans call her Luna, or they did a few millennia ago." He paused his rapid speech for a moment, thinking hard. "Ah, the Moon. So, long story short, Ileuad turned Isolde into a star so she could be with Peter wherever she went…and then, I don't know. I lost communications with her. She's dead now though, I knew it the moment of her passing."

Ariel turned his violet eyes back to Josephine. "You look just like her, you know. Coeurin loved your mother dearly, but she did not, unfortunately for both of them, reciprocate."

At his words a rather awkward silence fell over their little group, and Josephine cast an involuntary glance towards the stone slab door, behind which Coeurin was standing guard.

Finally Caspian cleared his throat. "What, exactly, does Achillea want with us then?"

"Well, I would think it obvious. Queen Achillea simply wants to make sure that your Princess Josephine doesn't become our Princess Josephine. Achillea has no way of knowing how much contact the girl has had with her mother; she could be here to fulfill her Isolde's work."

The girl in question glanced at Caspian, who was in turn looking coolly at her. She sighed and returned her gaze back to Ariel. "So how long must we be here?"

Ariel shrugged—an oddly graceful movement. "I have no idea."

Josephine found his response both disappointing and irritating. All she wanted to do was obtain Dyrnwyn and get the hell out of Dodge. All Ariel's information about her mother, fae politics, and everything else was nearly overwhelming; she needed time to sort through all that had been said before her brain melted. "I think I need to go to bed now."

As she stood up, both Caspian and Ariel rose as well. Secretly Josephine liked that particular act of chivalry, but in her current state of exhaustion, she found it disorienting. Ariel deftly captured her hand in his and places an airy kiss on her middle knuckle.

"Good night, my dear. I'll be back in the morning to help you prepare for an audience with the Queen." And with the soft grinding noise of metal on stone, her uncle was gone, though not before Josephine caught a glimpse of Coeurin hulking in the doorway. She turned to Caspian who was looking at her with a sort of sleepy gentleness in his black eyes.

Sensing she wouldn't want to be addressed in any formal manner, he said, "You take the bed, Josephine. I'm fine here."

She cast a skeptical look at the miniscule bench. "Don't be ridiculous, you can't even fit half of you on there. Just…" she paused, not wanting to sound cheap. "Just…you can sleep next to me."

She looked down at her shoes while speaking, afraid to see condemnation in Caspian's usually kind eyes. Much to her surprise, she felt his warm lips on her forehead and his strong arms slip around her waist.

"I would feel better with that situation, yes."

[~*~]

Lying in bed, next to Josephine was a strange experience for Caspian. On the one hand he had been raise to always respect women—be sensitive to their weaknesses, but supportive of their strength. He had been taught to never demand more than she was willing to give, and always respect a woman's boundaries. Above all, Caspian had been raise to never compromise a Lady's virtue in anyway, under any circumstances. Josephine had asked him to take their courtship slow, but somehow, he now found himself mere inches away from her soft, beautiful form in bed. And what a heavenly experience; Caspian wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and…

He rolled on to her stomach and buried his face in the goose down pillow. _Caspian, you silly creature_, he scolded himself mentally, _stop thinking like that; you need to be chivalrous and protect Josephine's virtue, not corrupt it._ The situation was not helped by the fact that Josephine was wearing only a simple white shift—found in one of the chests next to the bed. He himself was wearing only his pants.

Josephine shifted on the bed, turning to her left so that she was facing him. Her always cool fingertips touched his shoulder. "Caspian…are you awake?"

He turned his head to face her, a gentle smile fixed on his lips; looking closer in the soft blue light, he saw that Josephine looked confused and very nearly close to tears. He shifted so that he was lying on his side, facing her; he took her small hand in his lager ones.

"What is the matter, mi Querida?"

She sighed, and it seemed to him, fixed her lovely violet eyes on the wall behind him. "It's nothing…me being silly, really. I just…I just feel as if I don't know who I am anymore. I mean, am I Jo Whitehall, Josephine Pevensie, a Narnia Princess, or am I even human? I can't decide if I'm human, faerie, or star…it's…" she paused, pursing her lips while she tried to find the correct word or phrase. "It's disorienting and disturbing."

Caspian had noticed that Josephine had never been particularly good at holding in emotions and at that precise moment, she was attempting to bottle up torrent of distress. He had no idea what to do in the situation, so he did the only thing he could think of. Letting go of her hand, he encircled her shoulders in his arms and pulled her closer. His left hand combed soothingly through her golden hair while he drew small circles with his finger tips on her shoulder, with the other.

"Those things are just words—they don't mean anything beyond what people make them mean. You are an intelligent and kind—not to mention beautiful—woman. Those are the things that make you who you are, and they're never going to change." He felt her relax a bit in his arms. "Whatever you wish to be known as, it doesn't affect who you are, unless you let it. I am Caspian X, but that doesn't mean that I have to be like the other king Caspians. Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you?"

He felt her nod as she buried her face closer to his neck. Caspian stayed perfectly still as Josephine's breathing grew deeper and less frequent; until the flutter of eyelashes against his skin ceased. Not until she had fallen asleep did Caspian allow himself to do so as well.

"Yo te amo, mi Querida." He murmured into the darkness, before drifting off in slumber.

* * *

**And there you go! Chapter 15. For all of you who speak Spanish out there, you probably have a better idea about what's going on. (I don't speak it myself, I ask my friend, Won-won. 'Won-won, how do I say this? Won-won how do I say that?' I'm surprised she puts up with me 3. Of course Won-won isn't her real name, but we found that the most hilarious part of HP6!) Anyway, I hope you all liked it, and I promise, I'm not going to let my roommate's weird habit of going to bed at like 9pm stop me from writing anymore. Review?**

**Oh! P.S.--does anyone read / watch Axis Powers Hetalia? kolkolkol. That's my new fav. anime/manga.  
**


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